


Road Trip

by hannrose



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, i love road trip aus so here we go, ignoring iw and a4 im not touching those, peter and mj dislike each other and are stuck together. alone. for hours., theyre going into their senior year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-09-23 22:51:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17089244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannrose/pseuds/hannrose
Summary: When Ned asks Peter to go to tour Stanford with him, he can't help but say yes. Then, MJ, the one person Peter can hardly stand (and vice versa), decides to come along. Then, Ned's family comes with. Basically, Peter is stuck alone with Michelle for a minimum of forty four hours, but complications extend that drastically.





	1. Chapter 1

Ned Leeds grinned apologetically at his best friend, having just dropped a whole ass bomb.

 

“ _ What _ ?” Peter Parker gasped. He had his suitcase at his feet, all ready to go for tomorrow, with so many snacks you would wonder if there were even any clothes in it. Snacks he was  _ supposed _ to share with Ned.

 

“Well, my parents suddenly want to go, and they can’t just leave my sister at home by herself. You know how she gets.” That was a valid excuse, actually; Ned’s sister was the total opposite of him, and admittedly was great at throwing parties. “So, yeah. Two cars, not one. And MJ goes with you.”

 

That’s where Ned lost him. Did he wish for Peter’s death to be long and agonizing? MJ got on his nerves with all her snarky remarks and deadpanned stares and accusing tone. She was meant to go on this trip all along, but that’s when it was Peter, MJ,  _ and _ Ned all in the same car. At least, then, Ned would’ve acted as a barrier for them. They wouldn’t be able to bicker constantly, as they liked to do, if Ned was there to crack a joke.

 

“And why can’t MJ go in your car, and you be with me? Or, we all take rotations. Oh, or your  _ sister _ and MJ drive together, or I go with your sister. Isn’t that so much better?”

 

Ned scoffed. “My sister has been in love with you since the seventh grade, and my parents know it. They’re never letting her be alone with you, Pete.”

 

“I’d never make a move on your sister! C’mon, you have to know that. Make your parents know that,  _ please _ .”

 

“Dude, I won’t ever understand why you and MJ hate each other so much.” Peter opened his mouth to make a counterpoint, but Ned rolled his eyes and said, “Blah blah, ‘We  _ don’t _ hate each other, we just don’t like each other.’ I get it. But, she’s nice. You’re nice. She’s funny, you’re funny! How can you not be friends?”

 

“Today, she told me I have the facial structure of a hamster.”

 

Ned grimaced. “S-she was joking. Obviously.”

 

“She  _ drew _ me as a hamster! I have several pictures, do you want to see them?” Peter launched towards his backpack and unzipped it, riffling through his shit to find the six, very detailed and insulting pictures MJ had drawn. “Here is my face on a hamster’s body, here is me with a hamster head on my body, and here--”

 

“Okay, okay. I get it. Please, Peter? Do this for me. The only reason my parents are even letting me  _ think  _ about going to school in California is because you’re considering it, too. I need you.” Ned stressed his words exsesivley, and Peter felt a pit in his stomach; Ned had dreamed of going to Stanford since they were children. He had always wanted to explore the rest of the world, and that’s where he and his family differed. They wanted him to be in arms reach at all times, and that limited his options dramatically.

 

Peter remembered when he got Ned a meaningless Stanford sweatshirt for his birthday, and Ned almost cried. So, it was either forty-four hours in a car with  _ Michelle Jones _ , or make his friend give up his dreams of just setting foot on campus.

 

He groaned, throwing his head back in defeat. “Fine, whatever. And I’ll play nice, or something.” Peter dropped his backpack to the floor again, making a loud  _ thud _ , and it almost masked the knocking on the front door. His stomach lit in fury, and he held his tongue as he turned to Ned. “Please don’t tell me--”

 

“Uh-uh,” Ned nodded, failing to suppress his smile. “I told MJ to come over to sleep here. Just because it’d be faster.” Peter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was going to be a  _ long _ two weeks. “I’ll uh, go get the door.”

 

Peter had never really considered leaving New York; his only family member was here, they made the world’s best hot dogs, and, well, he couldn’t really do what he does anywhere else. Arizona was out of the question, since it was a barren and hot as hell land with minimal skyscrapers. Minnesota was, too, because it would probably make Peter’s suit freeze onto his skin. And he had  _ never _ , not in a  _ million years _ considered moving to California to go to college. It was expensive and huge and it would take Peter hours to get anywhere near a high rise. He always thought about NYU-- perfect location to May’s place, and in the perfect city.

 

But, then Ned begged him on his knees to go on this college tour. He had already told his parents that Peter was going, and it would be so fun, he had promised, it’d be like the road trip they always dreamed of! So, Peter said yes. And they booked one for mid-July, the day before Peter’s birthday. Ned promised that they’d go to LA, as well, because what’s a road trip to California worth if you don’t have fun?

 

Then MJ overheard them during lunch. “You guys are going? My mom says it’s not worth it to just fly myself out there.” She looked so  _ sad _ , so dreary, and Ned apparently sympathized with her enough to ask her to join them. Peter’s alarm bells went off when she perked up, a rare and slight smile gracing her face. “R-really? I mean, of course. As long as you losers keep the chatting to a minimum.”

 

Peter was only somewhat excited before, and then, he was almost dreading it. However, he kept some optimism pocketed away. His birthday was a sacred day, as nothing bad was  _ allowed _ to happen on his birthday, and Ned made MJ increasingly aware of that. “You have to be nice on the 17th,” he had demanded. She shrugged him off with an “I’ll make up for it.” And as long as he never had to be alone with her, Peter would be fine. Hell, maybe they’d even become friends.

 

Now, that was never happening. He was going to be locked in a confining car with her for forty-four hours, twelve hours a day, for three and a half days. Peter wanted to kick himself in the face, looking back at the time he had said, “Plane tickets are way too expensive. It’s not even worth it, let’s just drive.”

 

He and Ned had made a plan to stop at strange landmarks, too. Like Carhenge, located somewhere in Nebraska, an exact replica made out entirely of  _ cars _ . When Peter found that, he had trouble keeping his jaw off the floor. But that wasn’t happening now, either. Ned’s parents would want go directly there and back. 

 

Fun killers. The four of them--Ned, his parents, and MJ.

 

On his bed were remaining bits of clothes that he was planning to take with, and in Peter’s fading fit, he angerly shoved them into his suitcase. He felt Cheetos crush under his hands, and when he went to zip it up, no matter how hard he tried, it wouldn’t work. He kicked it across the room, making it slam into his dresser.

 

“Don’t kill the messenger,” a sly voice said from the doorway, “but you’ve got some issues, Parker.”

 

MJ leaned against the wall, a smirk across her face and her arms crossed, with her own suitcase at her feet. It was baby pink, a color Peter had never associated her with before. She was wearing her pajamas--plaid black and grey pants and a shirt that said, ‘ _ Wake me with coffee _ .’

 

“I thought you hated cheesy print shirts,” he commented, pointing at her’s.

 

“Never said that. I said that I hate  _ your’s _ .” He was going to make her sleep on the couch. “‘Raise your right hand if you believe in telekinesis.’ Lame.”

 

“Whatever,” Peter murmured. “Did Ned tell you the change of plans?”

 

MJ nodded her head, and it made her curls bounce incessantly. “He sure did.” There was a weird silence that then occurred, where they both just stared at each other. Peter didn’t know what to say to her-- if he started this trip on bad terms, it’d be hell on Earth. “You should take the first rotation of driving.”

 

“Why?”

 

She rolled her pick suitcase into the corner where Peter’s laid, and threw her pillow and blanket on the top bunk. “Because. I’m a shit driver in the morning.”

 

“Well, so am I.”

 

“I don’t doubt that, Parker, but seriously. You go first.”

 

Peter held his fist out on top of his other hand’s palm. “I’ll rock-paper-scissors it for you.”

 

MJ looked him up and down with blatant distaste, her face scrunching up and her eyebrows furrowed. “You’re a child.”

 

“Just do it.”

 

She tsked and prepared her stance, lazily holding out a flimsy fist. Peter counted out, “ _ Rock, paper, scissors--shoot _ ,” and on shoot, he rapidly laid out scissors. MJ did rock. 

 

“Screw you, Parker,” she gloated, grinning.

 

“ _ Fuck _ . Hey, I never said it was one round! It’s always been two out of three, so c’mon, play me again.”

 

“No way. I won. You’re driving, seven in the morning, and I will be sleeping.” 

 

Ned cleared his throat from the hallway. “Uh, guys?” he started. “If I leave right now, will you promise not to kill each other.”

 

“Maybe,” Peter muttered, and earned a glare from MJ.

 

“ _ Maybe _ ,” she repeated, her tone vindictive.

 

“Uh… great. I’ll, uh, be back in the morning. Make sure both of you make it, okay?” He looked between Peter and MJ, the distance between them unnatural, and Ned decided to try to lighten the mood. “Stanford here we come! Right? Guys, say it with me.”

 

He counted down from three on his fingers an all at once--Ned with undeniable enthusiasm, MJ with the exact opposite, and Peter being somewhere in the middle--shouted, “Stanford here we come!”

 

Ned beamed, like that somehow eased his nerves. “Alright. God, I can’t wait, you guys. See you seven sharp, okay?”

 

“Got it. Bye, Ned,” Peter said. MJ just waved.

 

Ned left, whistling down the hall as he did, and leaving Peter and MJ all by themselves.

 

He turned to her and noticed the gap between them had gotten even longer. “You sure you want to sleep in here? I snore. A lot.”

 

“No you don’t,” MJ denied. She took her hair out of her bun and threw her shoes off, and then crawled up the ladder.

 

“How would you know?”

 

“Ned gave me a list of things you would say. ‘I snore a lot.’ ‘I sleepwalk and almost kill Ned in his sleep.’ ‘I have to jerk-off in the morning.’ He says all of those are lies. Well, maybe not the last, but you can do it in the bathroom.” MJ took her charger out of her pillowcase and threw it at Peter’s head, and thankfully, he caught it. “Plug that in for me, okay?”

 

“I-- I do not--” Peter’s whole face flushed in embarrassment, his cheeks literally lighting on fire. “I  _ don’t _ \--”

 

“God, Parker, you jerk-off! We all do! Just plug that in and hand me the end.” 

 

There was no way he was going to survive forty four hours with her. And if she kept talking about masturbation, Peter might as well just quit while he’s ahead. Talking about sex made him quite uncomfortable, and coming from her? MJ wasn’t the person he wanted to talk about sex with.

 

Peter plugged her charger in and handed her the cord. “Do you want me to make you some food or something?” He probably would’ve just warmed her up what he had for dinner, honestly.

 

“I had dinner before I came. Let’s just sleep, it’s going to be an early morning.”

 

“It’s nine, though.” And there was no way Peter would be able to sneak out of his bedroom that night to go patrolling one last time before he left. MJ would hear him. He’d probably brush by her leg, in fact.

 

“So? Just go on your phone while you get tired.” 

 

Peter didn’t feel like arguing, so he gave in and shut the lights off. MJ’s phone illuminated the ceiling above, and for a second, Peter quickly considered unplugging her charger.

 

He didn’t, though. Instead, he laid his head on the pillow and wished for sleep to come quickly. “Goodnight,” he told her.

 

“Night. Loser,” MJ said back.

 

Peter dreamed of arguing with her in the car, and almost wrecking it. She taunted his driving skills and would tease him by pulling slightly on the wheel, and Peter had called her drawings annoying and had almost threw them out the window. At that point, a duck ran out to the middle of the road. Peter swerved, MJ screamed, and eventually they crashed into a lake of lava.

 

Unrealistic, yes. But he was pretty sure it was a bad omen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> merry christmas everyone!!! this is my gift to you all <3

Peter woke up by himself. The excess amount of sunlight, like it always was on summer mornings, probably helped, and so did the fact that he’d gotten a full night’s sleep-- something he hadn’t gotten since middle school.

 

Maybe, Peter thought, he should thank MJ for that. However, when he checked his phone, the clock read  _ 6:55 _ .

 

His heart rocketed out of his chest as he shot out of his warm bed. Peter shed his sweatpants, not even caring about MJ behind him, because Ned was going to be there in five minutes. They were always on time, too, even if it’s a general unspoken rule to  _ not _ arrive on time, and sometimes--

 

“MJ?” Peter shouted, putting on the one pair of jeans he hadn’t packed. He looked down at his shirt, shrugged, not bothering to take it off. “MJ, get up! We have to go.” Peter swung his backpack on and grabbed his suitcase by the sides.

 

His suitcase that he had never finished zipping. The contents of it spilled out onto his floor, going everywhere, and all of his uncrushed snacks made a terrifying noise as they buried each other.

 

“You can’t do anything right, huh?” MJ said after she opened the door. She was…  _ ready _ ? She was wearing capris and a yellow tank top, and had all of her stuff by her side. How was she  _ ready _ ? She was supposed to be in the bed, behind him.

 

“How long have you been awake?” Peter asked, and began shoving his clothes back into his suitcase at lightning speed. Fuck wrinkles, no one would care.

 

“Like, an hour.”

 

“And you didn’t even wake me?”

 

“You should be perfectly capable of getting up in the morning, Parker. No one will be there to babysit you at college.”

 

_ It’s only forty four hours _ , he thought to himself, as if that would make time go faster than normal. Forty four hours there, forty four hours back, plus all the time they’d be spending at motel rooms, and all of that would just accumulate to the anger-filled pit in his stomach that he experienced every time he saw her just growing a million times its size.

 

Peter got his remaining clothes in an managed to zip it. “This isn’t college, MJ. You should really be nice to me, you know. I’m supplying the car, I’m driving first, I could just kick you out.”

 

An empty threat, and she knew it. She pouted her lips mockingly and said, “And you would leave me there? Alone, on a highway, as a young girl in America? You have too much of a guilt complex to do that.”

 

“How can I feel remorse for you when you’re--”  _ Up my ass every day _ , he started, gripping the handle of his suitcase so hard he expected it to pop off.

 

“Would you look at the time?” MJ interrupted, shoving her phone in his space, and Peter read that it was 6:59. She was wearing a proud smile. Like she had won. 

 

And Peter really didn’t want to let her win again.

 

He darted for a stray pair of socks, slid those on, and did the same with his shoes. He, then, ran into his aunt’s room. May was just beginning to wake up, so Peter gently placed a kiss on her cheek and whispered, “Love you, May.”

 

Peter, out of breath if that was even possible for him, was outside of his apartment building the minute Ned pulled up with his family. MJ had beaten him to the front steps, where she now sat sketching Peter’s disheveled figure. 

 

The first person to pile out of the Leeds’ family car was Ned’s sister; Eleanor was only a year younger than them, an incoming junior, but whenever Peter looked at her he still saw the girl he accidentally hit with a basketball when he was seven. He broke her nose, and she had never let him forget it. Eleanor, on the other hand, saw  _ Peter Parker _ \-- a buff almost eighteen year old, with perfect curls and a sharp jawline. Something that no other girl had ever seen in him, and maybe Peter would’ve been interested in some other life, but this one wasn’t it. She was Ned’s sister, first and foremost, and he couldn’t get over that  _ other _ time she threw up on him when he was thirteen. Peter never forgot the smell.

 

“Peter!” Eleanor greeted, and placed her arms around his neck to pull him in for a hug. “I like that color. It’s very… you.”    
  
MJ scoffed, having gotten up from the stairs. “Let me tell you, he slept in that shirt. He’s a slob.”

 

“I don’t care,” she dreamily stated. Peter peeled her arms away.

 

“So,” MJ said, “Where’s our car?” When he pointed to the one, her face fell, and she almost screamed, “You’re fucking kidding me.”

 

May Parker’s car was a pale green 1998 Volkswagen Beetle, a small and compact car that always seemed to fit her perfectly. She’d pick Peter up from elementary school in it, wearing her floral dresses and her thick rimmed glasses, and you just  _ knew _ what kind of car she had. Peter didn’t belong in the Beetle--he was clumsy and hit his head almost every damn time he got out of it--and MJ  _ definitely _ didn’t. Her legs were too long.

 

It was going to be the one saving grace. Maybe all her efforts would go into trying not to be so uncomfortable instead of annoying Peter. 

 

“I’ll put your stuff in the car,” he smirked, grabbing her stuff and carrying all the weight effortlessly. 

 

“I’ll help,” Eleanor chimed in. She rushed to Peter’s side, now at the back of the Beetle, and said, “You are so strong, Peter.”

 

“Leave him alone, El,” Ned groaned. He moved his sister out of the way and pointed at his sweatshirt. “You like it?”

 

It was another one of his hundred Stanford ones. “You do know that we won’t be there for four days, right? And it’s like, a hundred degrees, dude.”

 

“Who cares? Stanford! We’re going to  _ Stanford _ . MJ,” he pointed at her, trying to gain a sliver of enthusiasm, “Stanford!”

 

“Words don’t have extra meaning just because you say them more,” she grumbled back. Eleanor was right next to her, chatting her ear off, making her mood so much worse.

 

Peter threw both of their bags in the trunk, and Ned shook his head disapprovingly. “You guys are so lame. Stanford, baby! Here we come!”

 

“It’s just a tour,” Peter reminded him.

 

“This tour is going to open up the rest of my life, though.”

 

Peter slammed the trunk closed and grinned back at Ned. “Then let’s get the rest of your life on track.”

 

Ned swiftly hugged Peter, and upon letting him go, shouted at his sister, “El! Get back in the car.”

 

“Bye, Peter,” Eleanor added a wink to her wave. “Oh, and you, too, MJ.”

 

They all piled into their respective cars, MJ doing it in a manner you could call  _ hostile _ , and Peter contained his laughter at her folded legs. He followed the Leeds’ car out of the city in only about thirty minutes--all while the two teens remained silent. Whenever Peter would look at her, she’d be doing different things. Usually, she was drawing, but other times she was on her phone, or reading a book, or just staring out the window. MJ also, even though she had her headphones in, would change the radio constantly.

 

“What’s her deal?” MJ eventually asked. “Eleanor’s, I mean, I didn’t even know he had a sister until a week ago.”

 

“I don’t know. What do you mean?” Peter was almost tailgating Ned’s car, too afraid that if anyone would try to merge between them, he’d get lost. He didn’t even notice how MJ, for the first time that day, was actually  _ looking _ at him. Not with hair in her face, not with a scowl, just looking.

 

“She drools all over you. ‘Oh, Peter is so handsome. Look at the way he throws those bags around!’ She needs some standards.”

 

“Ned and her have never really gotten along. She doesn’t actually like me, I don’t think, she just wants to piss off Ned, and the easiest way to do that is through me.” Peter glanced at MJ, and her head darted to look forward. “Why do you care?”

 

She hesitated, and fixed her posture when she started speaking. “I don’t. I- I just think that any girl who likes you is in dire need of saving.”

 

_ What a great way to start this _ , Peter thought. 

 

**1 HOUR ON THE ROAD**

 

He had just made everything so uncomfortable.

 

Not that things weren’t uncomfortable before, because they were. But, at least MJ was  _ talking _ , even if it was to point out weird and ugly billboards and laugh, “Hey, that’s you.” Now, however, she was just soaking there in a somewhat rageful silence.

 

MJ had been cramped for the entire hour. She couldn’t outstretched her knees and if she wanted to sit on her legs, her head would hit the top of the car, and her seatbelt was digging into her neck. 

 

So, she took action. MJ moved the chest strap so it was behind her and put her legs on top of the dashboard, and she finally let out a sigh of ease.

 

Peter, on the other hand, wasn’t happy. “Don’t do that,” he told her.

 

She just held out a middle finger, and then closed her eyes, basking in the sunlight.

 

He slapped her leg, “MJ, I’m serious. Don’t sit like that.”

 

“You’re such a fucking boy scout,” MJ complained. 

 

“There’s a reason we have seatbelts, and-- and if we get into a crash, your legs might get chopped off. I can’t control what other drivers do!” 

 

“We aren’t getting into a crash, Parker.”

 

“You don’t know that.”

 

“If we get into a crash, then I’ll tell you that you were right and that I should’ve listened to you. But, we aren’t. So, me and my legs are going to enjoy the sun.”

 

He would never tell her this, and he wasn’t even sure she’d care (because does that girl really have a heart? Really?) but Peter’s parents had died in a car crash. And May had raised him to be careful, in every aspect, and he’d be damned if this fucking, stubborn girl was going to die under his watch.

 

“I’ll rock-paper-scissors it for you,” Peter blurted.

 

MJ let out an unbelievable laugh, “Seriously? You lost last time, remember?”

 

“Just do it,” he sneered, recalling on last night.

 

“ _ Fine _ , but when you lose, again, you’re not allowed to say anything about how I’m sitting. In fact, you can’t even look at me.” MJ lazily placed out her hand, comfortable with her chances, her knee still against the window.

 

“That’s fine with me.” 

 

And on shoot, MJ had done paper, and Peter had done scissors. Without a word, MJ forcefully slammed her feet back on the floor and moved the seat belt back where it belonged, and Peter was going to say, “Sore loser?” but when he opened his mouth, she flipped him off, again.

 

And now she wasn’t talking. It had been fifteen minutes, and they even passed a random pig cutout on the side of the road wearing glasses and a white button down, and MJ didn’t even point out the eerie resemblance it had to Peter.

 

**HOUR 3**

 

Pennsylvania had much better scenery than New Jersey.

 

However, Peter’s foot was becoming cramped, and his stomach was rumbling. Only three more hours until he could switch places with MJ, who was now asleep, but it still felt like a lifetime away. 

 

He grabbed his phone, constantly darting his eyes between it and the road as he dialed Ned’s number. “Holy shit!” Ned yelled. “Sorry, mom. I was just about to call you, Pete!”

 

“Hey, dude. Why were you going to call?” 

 

“After an hour, my parents are going to spot the first fast food place and we’re all getting something. Bets on McDonald’s. Do you think MJ would be cool with that?” 

 

Peter took in a harsh breath. “McDonald’s? I don’t know. Isn’t she a vegetarian?”

 

“Not anymore, I think. Just ask her.” 

 

“She’s sleeping.”

 

“Then wake her!”

 

He groaned, and then placed his phone between his shoulder and his ear. Peter kept one hand on the wheel and then, with the other, poked her. “MJ,” he whispered, poking her again, and again. “ _ Michelle _ .”

 

MJ tugged out her earbud. “I’m not a vegetarian, I never was, and McDonald’s is fine. Stop touching me, freak.” She threw her head back in placed and put the earbud back in.

 

“Did you hear that?” Peter asked Ned.

 

“Sure did, freak,” Ned teased, and Peter could practically see his smirk.

 

**HOUR 5 AND 1/2**

 

The McDonald’s bag was making the car smell like death.

 

They had pulled into the drive-thru, and Peter ordered three burgers, a large fry, and 20 McNuggets. When MJ made fun of him, he snapped, “I’m starving because  _ someone  _ didn’t wake me up.” She got 10 chicken nuggets and a medium fry, and commented, “Because I respect my body more than you do.”

 

To MJ’s surprise, Peter had managed to eat all of his food, plus a few of her McNuggets. She gawked at him, taking a sip of her orange soda. “How are you not 200 pounds?”

 

“Fast metabolism,” Peter told her. He poured the last of the fries into his mouth. “You sure you’re full?”

 

“Certain.” Just a tiny bit of disgust lingered behind her voice when she answered him. “Are you?”

 

“Probably.” Peter looked over at her and grinned, and she smiled back.

 

MJ smiled back! Were his eyes deceiving him? She smiled, with teeth, and shook her head like it was funny. That was probably the first time Peter had actually and genuinely made her smile, and although most things MJ did got on his nerves, that hadn’t. It might’ve made him somewhat happy.

 

Then, the air conditioning stopped working. It was edging on 96 degrees, just outside of Pittsburgh, when MJ started hitting the air compartment in the car. “You’re fucking joking,” she practically growled, hitting the unit again, and again, each time with more force than the last.

 

“What happened to the cold air?” she demanded to know.

 

“I don’t know. Why should I?” Peter moved her hand away, the thumping noise driving him crazy as it wasn’t in beat with the song that was playing. 

 

“It’s your car.” She started hitting her air vent alone, like that’d do anything to help.

 

“If you break anything, you have to pay me. Just open the window.”

 

MJ stuck her tongue out and mockingly repeated, “‘Just open the window.’ No, Parker. I don’t feel like eating a faceful of hair right now.”

 

He turned his head and noticed that she already had a bead of sweat moving down her face. “Put your hair up, then.”

 

“ _ No _ ,” she stressed. “I can’t find any. I put them all in my suitcase.”

 

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?”

 

MJ rolled her eyes and threw the seat belt behind her chest once again. She noticed his side-eyeing and said, “Cool it, okay? It’s only for a second.” Then, she pulled her t-shirt off, revealing a black and lacy bralette.

 

“Woah!” Peter screamed, placing his hand so he couldn’t see her. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

 

“Using my t-shirt to tie my hair back, dumbass.” She did just that, making a low ponytail, and then placed the seat belt back over her chest.

 

Her chest was now mostly bare, and glistening in the sunlight, and Peter would be lying if he said he didn’t look. He never placed MJ to wear sexy bras, in fact he never thought about what kind of bras she wore, but if he had, he probably would’ve assumed that she wore, like, old granny bras. God, now all Peter was thinking about was MJ in those sexy, lacy bras and not the road ahead of him. He’d have to gouge his eyes out later.

 

And the only thing that stopped Peter from getting  _ too _ distracted (like thinking about if MJ had on matching panties. He was a teen boy, with unmatched levels of hormones, you can’t blame him,) was the rotting smell from the back. Heat and McDonald’s grease didn’t go together.

 

It was enough to make him want to gag with his heightened senses. MJ, seeing him struggling, rolled down the window.

 

That might’ve made things worse. See, now wind was blowing through and making the hairs that she missed act like she was a model in those magazines, sparing the waste of giant electric fans. A lingerie magazine. Showcasing a bra that would show your curves just enough to drive even a boy who couldn’t stand you crazy. On a model whose skin glittered, and with her eyes closed, maybe you could even call pretty.

 

Peter reminded himself, numerous times, of how angry MJ had made him all those days at Decathlon practice. Blistering and pure rage.

 

And May would probably slap him over the head if Peter confessed how many times he had to stop himself from thinking-- no,  _ hoping _ that MJ had packed more than just the one she was wearing.

 

Actually, he was going to slap himself. So, so many times.


	3. Chapter 3

**HOUR 7**

 

MJ was singing.

 

However light her voice was, she was certainly singing. Her fingers tapped the steering wheel in beat with the song and her head was bobbing--Peter had never seen her look so carefree before. She was back in her t-shirt, except it was tied into a crop top, and she hadn’t said any insults since Pittsburg.

 

“ _ Hell, what’s the matter with your head? _ ” MJ hummed. At the same time, she slammed on the gas pedal to pass some idiot who was going 30 in a 60 limit. “ _ What the matter with your mind and your sign-- _ What do you want, Parker?”

 

Shit. He didn’t even know he was staring.

 

“Nothing,” Peter shrugged. An idea popped into his head, and he leaned forward and turned the radio up, and screamed, “If you’re gonna sing, sing proud!”

 

MJ refused, at first. Peter was singing at the tops of his lungs, “ _ Cause you’re fun and you’re mine and-- _ ” He had pushed her shoulder, and she fucking giggled. “-- _ and you look so divine _ .” MJ’s voice was louder than his.

 

“ _ Come and get your love _ ,” they yelled in each other’s faces. The 2 p.m. sun hovered above the car as they whizzed past a sign that welcomed them to Ohio, and Peter felt joy rush into his veins. 

 

“ _ Come and get your love _ ,” they repeated. And Peter would later think that music was like a temporary healing for any bad blood, but in that moment, he was convinced that MJ had taken a liking to him. She was smiling and laughing and jokingly pushing him in the shoulder.

 

It must’ve just been the heat making her delusional; not even twenty minutes later, MJ harshly said, “You make another noise and I’m throwing you out.”

 

He was sipping on the last bit of his soda that he’d gotten at the gas station, where they switched places. The ice was in the way, but he wasn’t going to waste good soda. “You can’t do that.”

 

“Then I’m throwing that drink out the window.” Straight faced. Side-eyeing him with fire lingering.

 

“That’s littering, MJ, don’t make me tell the Green Club about this.”

 

Peter partially blames himself, because he should’ve just left it there. MJ huffed out in defeat, not saying anything else, and Peter went back to sucking, sucking,  _ sucking _ on that straw. It make the slurping noise that he hated, and maybe it was just the fact that he knew it was annoying her, but he did it for a while.

 

MJ yanked the cup out of his hand, popped the cap off with just her thumb, poured the ice into his lap, and threw the cup into his face. “Tell that to the Green Club, jackass.”

 

“You--  _ you _ \--” Peter gasped, the ice quickly melting in his lap and making the water spread. “You bi--”

 

“Finish that sentence, Parker. C’mon, I  _ dare _ you. Finish that fucking sentence!” 

 

He stared at her. She stared back, making him fear her driving abilities. And he didn’t finish the sentence.

 

But as the ice melted more and more in his lap, he repeated the ending over and over again in his mind.  _ You bitch _ , he thought.  _ Bitch, bitch, bitch _ .

 

**HOUR TEN**

 

Peter’s lap was dry.

 

On any other occasion, he probably would’ve stopped talking to her. Like May said, if you have nothing nice to say, and blah blah blah, it’s a universal phrase. But Peter  _ had _ to be nice, because the way this was going, someone was going to end up murdering the other one.

 

They were verging on the edge of the Ohio border into Indiana, and Peter pipped up with an insightful comment. “Is Ohio the most boring states we’ve been through?”

 

“What do you mean?” MJ asked, disinterested.

 

“Pennsylvania and New Jersey had cool billboards. Like that weird ass watermelon one, that wasn’t even trying to tell watermelon, I think it was for male enhancement pills. Oh! And Jersey had that man dressed up as Jesus giving out lollipops during traffic. You didn’t eat your’s, did you?” Peter had thrown his into the garbage bag immediately.

 

“Hell no. It’s in the glove box. Okay, wait-- why is Ohio the boring one?”

 

“Because all I’ve seen is shitty pro-life billboards and zero Jesus. How does that make any sense?” 

 

MJ was less afraid on the road than Peter was-- cutting cars off and not letting anyone merge so they wouldn’t lose Ned’s car. She was like the poster child for road rage, and it made sense.

 

So, when she opened her mouth to comment on Peter’s observation, a car had started to hug the centerline, trying to get in front of their car. MJ blared the horn, and when they didn’t let up, she slammed on the gas pedal. They almost took off their mirror, and were literally  _ touching _ Ned’s car by the time MJ cooled off.

 

“Fucking bastards,” she grumbled, relaxing in her seat. “Anyways, I get what you’re saying. Jesus should be where the crazy pro-life signs are. Oh my god-- My favorite was the one that said, ‘ _ My mom is going to kill me. My mom is REALLY going to kill me _ .’”

 

Peter really wanted to press the importance of safe driving. That you shouldn’t be angry all the time at everyone in the world because it’d end them both up in a ditch on the side of the road. He had this weird inclination, however, to just drop it. Drop it, because  _ you’re on the verge of an actual conversation with this girl, Peter _ . Drop it, because he’s finally found a topic that they both have information on (just an assumption, since Peter had to do a project on pro-choice vs pro-life, and MJ seemed like the person who would know a lot.) Drop it, because he could always do it later, like the next time she’s driving.

 

He decided to drop it. “That one was hilarious. MJ, from your point of view, isn’t it a little insane how much people care about this?”

 

“So insane!” she enthusiastically agreed. “What pissed me off the most was my health teacher  _ Ms. Gavara _ , preaching about how Jesus won’t take sinners, and abortion is a sin. And they’re not even allowed to talk about religion in school, so what bullshit was she on, Parker?”

 

“My class got that lecture, too. Also, maybe on our way back we could ask Jesus in Jersey for a lesson on sins. I’d bet he’s lenient, though, since I’m a hundred percent sure those suckers were laced with LSD.” 

 

MJ let out a laugh, but at the same time, her face dropped. “Uh, we were in the same class.”

 

“What? Really?”

 

“Yeah. You sat right next to her desk because she hated how you never stopped fidgeting and I sat in the back of that row. Your drug project was the Captain America Super Serum, and Ms. Gavara got pissed because that wasn’t the type of drugs she was talking about. Mine was on steroids.” MJ switched the radio channel.

 

“Oh. I don’t really remember that, but I’m sure it was a great presentation.” How could he not remember? He remembered Flash Thompson’s, where he advocated multiple times for the legalization of recreational marijuana. And she sat in the same row as him… Peter was losing his memory already.

 

“Yeah, that’s because you were sleeping. You came in during the middle of Cindy Moon’s, and fell asleep during mine. And it was a great presentation, I got an A.” She turned the radio up, and signified the end of their only conversation.

 

He struggled to find words, wanting to say  _ something _ , but unsure of what. MJ seemed upset. Her jaw was clenched, her knuckles on the steering wheel were turning a pale white, and her left foot was bouncing up and down. Peter, of course, felt like a dick. But she didn’t even like him. What was the big deal? So, he didn’t know they were in the same class. So what? He didn’t notice a lot of people until he’s put into a group with them. 

 

Why did MJ care?

 

**12 HOURS OUTSIDE OF NYC**

 

They were staying in an AmericInn, just forty minutes from Indianapolis. Peter was looking forward to the pool, obviously, and he’d finally get to spend time with Ned in their hotel room. 

 

“Yeah, about that,” Ned said in the lobby. His parents were checking them in, as Eleanor was making MJ find a bathroom with her. “So, my, uh, my parents said that they want El and I in the same room. And they want you to get a full night’s rest, so you don’t crash the car.” And there, as he finished the sentence, was the apologetic smile again.

 

“You’re the worst,” Peter groaned. He knew what that meant; another night of sharing a room with MJ. “Please tell me there’s two beds.”

 

“Oh, yeah, of course! We can’t have you getting any more ideas, can we?” Ned nudged him with his elbows and winked. After Peter got into the passenger seat, he’d texted Ned about the bra situation.

 

Peter shoved ned gently, laughing. “Fuck off.”

 

MJ walked up to them and Eleanor was on her heels. “You don’t wear make-up, do you? Well, mostly I’d say you don’t need it, but there’s a few spots where concealer would really help.” MJ’s eyes widened in Peter’s direction that screamed help.

 

“El, leave the poor girl alone,” Ned pleaded. “I’d say you need less make-up. Where did you think we were going when we woke up? We are in the middle of nowhere, not prom.”

 

“I just like to look nice!” Eleanor protested, her cheeks turning rosier. “Peter, you think my makeup looks nice, right?”

 

All eyes were on him, and MJ’s seemed the most demanding.  _ Weird _ . “I’m not answering that,” he deflected, scratching the back of his neck.

 

Ned’s mother strolled over, with two key card holders in her hands. She placed one in Peter’s palm, saying, “Peter, gosh, I am so sorry. I haven’t even said hi to you yet! Love the haircut. Hi, Michelle, I’m Ned’s mom.” She shook MJ’s hand.

 

“Got that,” MJ smiled.

 

“You and Peter are in room 112. We are just across in room 113, so if you two need anything just come on over, okay?”

 

MJ took a deep breath, staring Peter dead in the eyes while saying, “That’s great, Mrs. Leeds.”

 

Their room was nothing special. Two beds, one old TV, one bathroom. Even though Peter was promised the separate beds, he still let out a sigh of relief when he saw confirmation. 

 

The first thing he did was dart into the bathroom, holding his swim trunks in a ball. He stripped his clothes, just so desperate to get into the pool. The last time he went swimming was four years ago--insane, he knew, but May hated the water and all the local swimming pools were disgusting. Ned was going to meet him in the lobby when he was ready, but Peter wanted to beat him out there.

 

“What are you doing?” MJ asked. 

 

Peter slipped on his flip flops, not bothering to do the same with his shirt, and left the bathroom. He shoved his clothes into his suitcase. “Ned and I are going swimming.”

 

“Can I go swimming?” She had asked, but she wasn’t waiting for him to say yes. She was already going through her clothes to find her swimsuit.

 

“Free country, MJ. I’ll wait for you and Ned in the lobby.” Peter walked a step forward, only a step, before MJ stopped him.

 

“No, wait for me in here. I’ll be super quick.” When she got closer to him, he noticed how her eyes went up and down his chest. It was only fair. “Promise.”

 

MJ was  _ super quick _ , actually, but walked out of the bathroom with her back turned to Peter. Her hair was in a high bun, and in the mirror, Peter could see that she was manually holding up her bikini top, with the straps hanging over her shoulders.

 

“Peter, tie this for me.” She took a step backwards, infringing on his personal space. MJ glanced into the mirror and saw his inquisitive face, and rolled her eyes. “ _ Please _ tie this.”

 

His fingers ran across her cold skin, and she shivered at his touch. “You called me Peter.” What was  _ wrong _ with him? As he tied the top, he kept checking the mirror. MJ’s  bikini was a navy blue, and the top was, so to say, minimal and the bottom was tight. He had to redo the knot a few times because he was so distracted admiring her body.

 

Peter never considered himself to be such a pig before. But, he was. He really, really was.

 

“I did? Oh, well don’t get used to it, Parker.” 

 

After Peter finished tying the knot, they walked together to the lobby, where Ned already was. “Your girlfriend is here,” MJ teased, pointing to the person next to his friend. Eleanor waved enthusiastically.

 

This trip sucked. Really, it did. Peter understood science, he understood hormones, but he didn’t get why his hormones had to be directed towards MJ. And no one was letting him have alone time with his best friend, and Ned’s sister was a literal parasite, always there and sucking on Peter’s energy to even be there.

 

“I’m losing my mind,” Peter whispered into MJ’s ear.

 

“Me, too. Whenever she can’t talk to you, she talks to me.” They finally made it to where they were standing, and MJ pointed at Ned and Peter’s shorts. “Did you two plan to match?”

 

“Absolutely,” Ned answered. “We got them at Target the day before summer, but never got to use them at the same time. Until now.” He held his hand up for a high five, which Peter gratefully accepted.

 

MJ brushed them off, “You two are losers.”

 

The swimming pool was just around the corner, and with one swipe of Peter’s keycard, they were in. There were four children, who all looked eight years old, in the shallow end of the pool, and a their parents were in the hot tub. Peter snatched a table, taking his shoes off and placing them and his phone on the table. Everyone else followed suit.

 

Ned and Peter jumped into the pool at the same time. The water engulfed him, making him feel weightless. It felt so refreshing after the whole day, were he had gained pounds in sweat alone, but also after years of being constantly on guard. If Peter closed his eyes, it was almost like nothing could touch him. If he just floated on his back for a while and closed his eyes, it would’ve been exactly what he needed to heal every bruise that had yet to go away.

 

“You like to swim, Peter?” Eleanor asked him. She was just dangling her feet in the pool, since her makeup was still on.

 

“I guess. Do you?”

 

“Not that much. But, I might take a dip later.” MJ took a seat next to her, and when she put her feet in the pool, she intentionally splashed Peter.

 

“Really, MJ?” She did it again, giggling, and Peter splashed her, as well. Back and forth, until Eleanor screamed something about her clothes getting wet and left. At that point, though, Peter grabbed MJ’s legs and pulled her to be enveloped in water.

 

When she came up for air, she was still smiling ear to ear. “You’re welcome,” she said.

 

“For what? For making me swallow water?”

 

“For getting you out of that conversation. Who knows? Maybe she was finally going to make her move, and Ned would’ve been pissed, and we would’ve had to go home.” MJ swam to the edge to grab ahold of, but Peter stayed where he was.

 

“So you did it out of purely selfish reasons? Because you didn’t want to go home?”

 

“Exactly, Parker.” She smirked and splashed him one last time, before pulling herself up out of the pool. Water gracefully fell off her body as Peter watched her find a spot away from the parents in the hot tub.

 

Ned saw Peter’s gaze, and burst into laughter. “Holy shit! Dude, you can’t be serious.”

 

“What?” Peter hissed. Only his toes touched the bottom, so he was currently bouncing between them like a dancer.

 

“Haven’t you been texting me that you think she might kill you? Or that you might kill her? And wasn’t it just yesterday--”

 

“Whatever you’re thinking is insane. Don’t even say it outloud, because I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not it. Never.” Ned looked at him in disbelief, and opened his mouth to say more, but Peter didn’t miss a beat before shouting, “Let’s have a contest to see who can hold their breath longer. 1, 2, 3.”

 

They both plunged underwater, and Peter won. But, a few minutes later when MJ dove back into the pool, Ned kept giving him suggestive looks. After MJ borrowed the eight year old’s plush ball to throw around and play monkey in the middle with, and the only person she guarded was Peter, Ned literally said,  _ outloud _ , “Aww, how cute.” And when Peter handed her her towel so they could go back to the room, Ned winked at him.

 

What was Peter supposed to be admitting here? Sorry, he’s seventeen years old, kind of a horndog, and this girl he’s been around for twenty four hours straight has a good body? Or, what Ned was thinking, Peter was supposed to say he liked her. As if their animosity was a coverup for their lust.

 

Well, it wasn’t. 

 

It  _ wasn’t _ .

 

Peter opened their door for her, and after she went through, Ned teased him by doing the ‘air make-out’ movement. He flipped him off and said, “Goodnight, Ned.”

 

“She got to you! That finger is her move!” Ned shouted through the closed door. “Night, Pete! Love you!”

 

MJ was turning the shower on when Peter came in. “Hey, Parker?” she called after him. 

 

“Yeah?” Peter stood in the doorway of the bathroom, and when MJ got the perfect temperature, she started talking again.

 

“I’m… I’m sorry for being-- I was difficult today, and probably really bitchy. I’m sorry.”

 

Peter’s tongue felt like a sponge. He didn’t expect that. “Oh. Well, no big deal. The heat can get to us all, right?”

 

“Right.” She sounded more relaxed, like apologizing wasn’t something she was used to. “Do you think you’ll need to use the shower later?”

 

“Nah, I’ll just dry off and then go to bed.” Peter hated feeling awkward, and that conversation, for some reason, was making his skin crawl. She just looked at him, in her navy blue bikini, and Peter was just looking at her, and it was weird. “So, goodnight, MJ.”

 

“Night, Peter,” she said, closing the bathroom door.

  
_ Peter _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mediocre, but i love it. i hope you guys enjoyed it!!! leave a comment, i love to read them <3


	4. Chapter 4

Peter was eating breakfast with Eleanor.

 

How in the world had that happened?

 

Despite how it seemed, Peter didn’t hate Eleanor. She was annoying at times and how obsessive she was made him go a little crazy, but she was nice. Eleanor was on the honors roll and the robotics team, and he didn’t entirely blame her for her crazy parties-- the robotics team raged hard. And, yeah, she was Ned’s sister, but Peter couldn’t deny that it didn’t feel a little good knowing someone liked him.

 

But he would never date her, and at breakfast that very early morning, Eleanor was testing his patience. “What if, hypothetically, there was this gu-- girl you liked but you were forbid from seeing her. What would you do?”

 

All Peter wanted to do was eat his undercooked waffle, not incriminate himself. “I wouldn’t do anything. I’ve got enough secrets.”

 

“You have no romantic spirit at all.” Eleanor slumped in her chair and used her fork to point at him. “But, what if--”

 

“Eleanor,” Peter stressed, “I wouldn’t do anything.”

 

Eleanor stared up at him and rolled her eyes. “You are so lame.”

 

“Not  _ lame _ . Just respectful. Also, I am a very romantic person. At least, I would be if I had anyone to be romantic with.”

 

Eleanor laughed and touched his forearm, and before Peter had a chance to move it, MJ walked in.

 

She looked furious, for some reason, demandingly grabbing a bagel and ignoring Peter’s calls as she left the room. What was her problem? She was so up and down all the time, but even knowing that, Peter was anxious seeing her like that. Last night, they were good. He had heard MJ singing in the shower, and it made him feel…  _ warm _ inside, and when MJ thought he was sleeping, she repeated, “Goodnight, Parker.” Last night, Peter thought they were going to be good friends.

 

He excused himself from their table, picked up his scraps and threw them away on the way out the door. Peter chased after MJ, trying not to yell her name too loudly in the hotel lobby.

 

“MJ,” he huffed out when he finally caught up to her. “Is there something wrong?”

 

They turned the corner and were in their hallway. She shortly answered, “Nope.”

 

“You sure? Because you seem--”

 

“Leave me alone for two seconds, Parker,” MJ snapped when they reached their door. “Just-- stay there. We don’t have to be attached at the hip all the time.” And then she muttered something he couldn’t quite match.

 

She swung the door open and slammed it in his face.

 

Great. His phone was in there.

 

Peter’s keycard was burning a hole in his pocket, but he was afraid that if he used it, she’d tear his face off. So, he sunk down against the wall and just sat there. If he closed his eyes, he could hear MJ crying.  _ Crying _ ? What did she have to cry about?

 

Well, maybe it wasn’t MJ. Peter couldn’t exactly focus his hearing on one certain place, so it had to have been someone else in a close room. Or in the floor above them.

 

That’s what he told Ned, at least.

 

“You’re an idiot,” Ned laughed. “MJ is crying because she saw my sister flirting with you. Duh.”

 

“Why would MJ cry over that?”

 

“She’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to cope with her feelings, so she lashes out instead of dealing with them. It’s obvious. And she’s at her breaking point with spending so much time with you.” Ned said it like it was common knowledge, nonchalantly and like it was no big deal.

 

Peter gaped at him before breaking out into a smile. “Sure, dude. She dumps ice into my lap and calls me names because she’s in love with me.”

 

“Don’t act like you don’t feel the same way,” Ned raised his eyebrows. “Oops, look at the time. Gotta go get ready.”

 

He was  _ not _ in love with her. No matter what Ned said.

 

**HOUR TWELVE**

  
Yeah, Peter was definitely not in love.

 

MJ kept making comments about the way he was driving. She compared him to a turtle and a snail and a grandma who is trying to apply lipstick, all in the same breath. She said his right turns were too wide and the way he merged felt like a goddamn roller coaster.

 

Yesterday, instead of talking when she was mad, MJ stayed in a bitter silence. Peter had hated that, because it was so uncomfortable he actually started peeling off his nails. He wanted to be  _ boiled _ in that bitter silence, instead of whatever she was doing now.

 

“Where the hell are we?” MJ growled. They were surrounded by farmland, and the smell of manure was seeping into the car.

 

“Illinois.”

 

“Great.” She took a pause and scrunched her face. “Your car is making a weird noise.”

 

“I don’t hear anything,” he lied. He heard it from when they left the hotel, it was like there was change rattling around in the engine. Probably a bad sign.

 

They passed a small town of only five hundred people before MJ brought it up again. “Parker, seriously. It sounds like a dying cat.”

 

“Well, what do you want me to do about it? Pull over and inspect it? I don’t know shit about cars.” They were on a long stretch of a county road; for some reason, Ned’s parents chose against going on highways for that day.

 

“I am just trying to  _ inform _ you that your car is whining! Also, I’ve never suspected you to know about cars, but I know a little bit. At the next rest stop, I’m taking a look,” MJ told him, crossing her arms and her legs to be even more closed off.

 

“Fine, whatever. But this car is older than you, so I doubt--”

 

“Fuck off. You don’t know what I can and can’t do.” Her voice was like nails on a chalkboard that day.  _ Get me out of here _ , Peter thought.

 

“I’m not assuming anything, I’m just saying that I don’t see any twenty year old parts laying around these roads, okay?”

 

MJ made another disatisfied noise, finally holding her tongue.

 

And then, the worst thing that possibly could’ve happened, happened.

 

The car sputtered and smoke erupted from the hood, and while Peter tried to move it to the side of the road, the wheels stopped moving, and the radio died. Just like a slapstick comedy.

 

Okay, this was not what he meant at all by ‘get out of here.’ He meant being transported to some tropical island. Now, he was just stuck with her more.

 

“You’re fucking kidding,” Peter complained, turning the key over and over again.

 

“I  _ told _ you. And that’s not going to do anything, so don’t even try.” When he tried again, MJ slapped his hands. She muttered, “Dipshit. Get out of the car, Parker.”

 

He grabbed his phone and exited the vehicle. “No service,” he announced. “Can’t even call Ned.”

 

“Thank you so much for bringing this time machine. God, we’re never even going to make it to Stanford. I’m going to rot here with  _ you _ .” MJ opened the trunk and got their suitcases out, chucking Peter’s on the rubble.

 

“What are you doing?” 

 

“We have to walk to that town. It’s the closest thing I saw, and I’m not waiting for a car to come by.” 

 

“Well, I can’t just leave May’s car.” It was a piece of junk, but a piece of junk that was part of his childhood. It wasn’t going to get mowed down by a semi. “Help me push it to the side of the road.”

 

MJ, in an exasperated manner, dropped her bag. She didn’t argue, which he appreciated, but he knew that she was hardly even touching the car. Peter didn’t need help, though, he just needed to make it seem like he needed help. No average teenager can push a car.

 

Once the car was out of the way, they started walking. The side of the road was all dirt, and every time MJ looked down at her white Converse, her attitude got worse and worse. And the more the sun beat down, and the hotter the temperature got, and the hungrier he got, the more Peter wouldn’t have minded just sitting in that car alone.

 

“This is possibly the worst vacation of my entire life,” Peter mumbled. 

 

“Can it, Parker. If you had a car that wasn’t a relic, we wouldn’t be here.”

 

“No, MJ. If you hadn’t butted your head in where it didn’t belong,  _ I  _ wouldn’t be here.” He could’ve been in an air conditioned car at that moment, with his best friend playing shitty early 2000s music, but no. No, of course not.

 

Peter didn’t feel bad for saying it, not at first. MJ fell silent, though, without even adding a little comment, like calling him an asshole. She walked ahead of him, her head turned down, and that’s when he started to feel like a dick.

 

MJ was good at that. Good at making someone want to pop her head off, but in the very next moment, feel so terribly bad for her that you wanted to wrap her up in a hug and tell her it’d be okay. Peter really wanted to give her a hug, like,  _ strangely _ wanted to, and he couldn’t figure out why.

 

The only time she looked back at him was when he took off his sweat-drenched shirt. And, when she followed his lead, Peter only marveled at how her skin glowed for a second.

 

He was livid--at himself or MJ, he wasn’t sure. Anyways, Peter didn’t have the energy to be horny.

 

“My feet are killing me,” MJ complained. They had been walking for twenty minutes.

 

“Sucks,” Peter shrugged.

 

“Carry me on your back.”

 

“ _ Excuse me _ ?”

 

It wasn’t even worth arguing, as he was becoming exhausted. MJ jumped on his back, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Peter held their suitcases in his two hands. He could’ve done this for a long time, if he was honest. The only problem was that MJ was breathing in his ear. 

 

It was irritating. And on any other occasion, a girl whose breasts were pressed up against his back would’ve pushed Peter over the edge, but his annoying urges were not there. He didn’t have the energy.

 

“You’re so sweaty,” MJ told him.

 

“Deal with it. Or you’re walking.” He heard her repeat it in a mocking tone, and felt is blood pressure rise.

 

MJ, with the sweat that was on her hand, rubbed it on Peter’s face. “That’s all you.”

 

“Alright,” Peter snapped, and let go of her legs. She dropped to the ground and unlatched her arms. “What’s your fucking problem with me MJ?”   
  
She looked taken aback by his abruptness, but quickly overcame it. “My problem with you is that your a brat, who gets away with everything and has zero repercussions.”

 

“You have no idea what happens in my life. I was grounded almost thirty times last school year, and I was forced to build sets instead of going to detention. Do you want to talk about getting away with everything? How about when you almost killed us yesterday and I didn’t say anything?”

 

“That’s on you, Parker. And  _ you _ have no clue about  _ my _ life. You have known me for eleven years, so tell me, what does my dad do? What’s my mom’s name? What do I want to study in college? 

 

He didn’t know any of that.

 

“Exactly.” MJ pushed him back slightly. “ _ Your _ parents were engineers before they died in a freak accident. Your aunt is May Parker. And you want to go into biochemistry, and make some world renowned bullshit! See, that’s your problem, Peter. You’re selfish.”

 

MJ breezed past him and picked up her suitcase, her long legs moving fast on her apparently hurt feet.

 

Peter caught up to her. “I’m not selfish. C’mon, MJ, just because I don’t know those things doesn’t mean anything! You like writing, right? And you like to draw and-- and-- Well, I care about Ned and I care about my aunt--”

 

“You ditch Ned all the time, don’t act like you don’t.”

 

Peter wished he could explain why he ditched Ned. He had spent four years putting the entire city of New York in front of his needs, but MJ would never know that. Peter wasn’t  _ selfish _ , he knew he wasn’t, but why did he care so much?

 

“Think what you want to think. But I promise you, I’m more selfless than you are.”

 

“Selfless people don’t say that.”

 

Peter opened his mouth to say more, probably to dig himself into a deeper hole, but he spotted a diner, and he smelt delicious food.

 

“Put your shirt back on,” he told her. He put on the same one he had draped over his shoulder, one that could probably be wrung out and drip sweat.

 

“Disgusting,” MJ said. She took out a clean one, staring at Peter with a sad look in her eyes when she was done.

 

“ _ What _ ?” Peter hissed.

 

She shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst, angst, and angst! a smaller update but kind of a big one. hope yall enjoyed


	5. Chapter 5

Inside, the diner was sparsely populated. There were only two booths filled, one with an elderly couple and another with a pair of parents that weren’t even trying to calm their tantrum throwing children.

 

The hostess, whose name tag read  _ Josie _ , looked and Peter and MJ without a care, saying her scripted lines like a robot. “Welcome to Rosie’s on this fine afternoon, would you like a table or a booth?”

 

Peter’s stomach was growling and was ready to consume his entire body, and he was ready to yell, “Booth!” MJ beat him to it.

 

“Actually, would you mind telling us where the nearest repair shop is? Our car broke down a few miles down and we’re trying to get to California.” 

 

Josie shook her head. “That’s in Decatur, sweetheart. It’s about thirty minutes east, and they’ll bring a truck to haul your car and you down there. But, they’re closed on the weekends.” It’s Friday, meaning they’d be there for three nights.

 

_ Three nights _ .

 

MJ’s eyes widened. “They’re closed? What do you mean they’re closed?”

 

“Friday through Monday at 6 a.m., their doors are shut. We have a little motel just down the road for you and your boyfriend to stay at.”

 

“He isn’t-- You know what, whatever. Can we get a booth?” 

 

**DAY ONE**

 

Peter bit into his second cheeseburger, while MJ still hadn’t touched her first. She was biting her fingernails and staring out the window, and every so often she’d check her phone, just hoping service would magically appear. “Do you think it’s too late to call Ned to come back and get him to pick us up?” she asked.

 

“They’re probably an hour out from Missouri at this point, there’s no way his parents would just turn the car around.” He took another bite. That had to be the best cheeseburger he’d ever had in his life.

 

“So the Leeds are heartless people who would just leave two teenagers in the middle of nowhere?” MJ picked up her phone, again, and slammed it back down.

 

“There’s no room in their car, first of all. Second of all, if they turned around and came back, we’d be set back almost a whole day and probably wouldn’t make it to Stanford in time, and we’re  _ fine _ , here, MJ. Eat your burger,” Peter told her, pushing her plate forward.

 

“Monday is your birthday, right? You’re telling me you don’t give a shit that you’re going to be in  _ Illinois _ for your 18th birthday, and not California?” Instead of taking a bite of her burger, she shoved a single fry into her mouth.

 

Peter shrugged, and said, “Not really. I would’ve loved to spend it with Ned, and if anywhere I’d like to be back at home, but honestly, I didn’t really want to go to Stanford. He was just using me so his parents would say yes.”

 

“Huh,” MJ let out, sinking in her chair as she popped in another fry.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing, Parker. Do you want my burger?”

 

Eagerly, Peter agreed, chomping down on it instantaneously. He pretended not to notice the way MJ was staring at him-- wide eyed, confused, like she had something to say, but couldn’t say it. Then, she sunk back in her seat and wistfully looked out the window. “I, for one, would rather be anywhere but here.”

 

He swallowed the last bite. “We can check out the motel, if you want.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” she said, “But yeah, okay.”

 

MJ looked exhausted, and they started trudging down the street. The small hamlet had a line of only a few shops--a hardware and grocery store combo, a shop that advertised “Cheap American Clothes!” and a gas station, and its poster out front was about who caught that biggest fish that month. Peter heard MJ growl about how of  _ course _ they stumbled onto the one small town that had all the cliches.

 

It was a ten minute walk to the motel, and at that point, it had never even occurred to Peter as to why there was a motel in that barren wasteland. “It’s for people like us,” MJ sleepishly explained. “Who break down or for people who don’t know how to plan a road trip.”

 

She was almost limping, and was dragging both of her feet in the dirt path. She was most likely going to hit him in the face again for suggesting this, but even though she had called him, basically, a selfish dick, Peter… Peter felt  _ bad _ . MJ didn’t have his healing or strength powers; she was a girl who weighed nothing more than a feather to him, always the one who had an excuse to opt out of the mile in school.

 

And-- he told her she had no right to be on that trip. Her face and attitude after killed him.

 

“I can carry you the rest of the way. If-- if you want,” Peter offered.

 

MJ sighed in relief and dropped her suitcase to the ground. “Oh, god, please.” She walked behind him and desperately wrapped her arms around his neck and hoisted her legs up, like she was used to it, and rested her head on his shoulder. “Walk quietly,” MJ whispered.

 

“Don’t drool on me,” Peter told her.

 

Unbelievably, she didn’t-- however, in the six minutes between that point and Peter finding themselves under the motel sign, she  _ was _ asleep. He had to bend forward so she wouldn’t slip off. 

 

He didn’t mind, though. Well, actually, Peter felt so guilty he didn’t feel like he had the  _ right _ to mind.

 

Outside the main doors, Peter nudged MJ awake with his shoulder. She woke up and cried, “I’m so tired,” elongating her words. She fell off of his body with an ungraceful landing and then caught her breath. Then, she walked into the building.

 

_ I’ll carry your shit, MJ, sure _ , he thought as he followed her inside.

 

Just like the town and just like the diner, the motel wasn’t spectacular. It looked and smelled of  _ old _ . Diamond shaped red wallpaper surrounded them, and the only pieces of furniture in that main room was the main desk, a couch, and a table. It gave Peter a weird feeling in his gut. MJ, however, walked up to the desk with determination.

 

She rang the bell for help. When no one answered, she rang it again. And on the third one, an older man walked out of the back room. He smiled enthusiastically at the two raggedy teenagers and pulled out a record book. “Welcome to the Starlight Motel! What can I do for you on this fine afternoon?”

 

MJ made a fake gagging noise, hiding her face against Peter’s arm. 

 

“A room, please. For three nights, until Monday morning.” Peter pulled his wallet out of his pocket, way too aware of how empty it felt.

 

“One room for three nights,” the clerk repeated and wrote something down in his book. “Payment is $135. Would you like to pay in cash or credit?”

 

All of the cash that was going into their hotel funds, May had already given to the Leeds. Peter, with money from May and Tony and his savings he had been keeping for six years, only had $80 left. His debit card was supposed to be used for  _ gas _ , May had stressed. Gas, and emergencies.

 

But, after this emergency, there would be no money left on it for gas. And thus, it would all be useless.

 

He asked the clerk for a few seconds to talk to MJ. “How much money do you have?” Peter shook her shoulders, trying to get her to stand up straight. 

 

“A lot? I don’t know. Just-- just take my wallet and let me go.” MJ shoved her wallet into his chest and peeled his hands off of her, and quickly returned to her groggy state.

 

MJ  _ did _ have a lot--more than enough to cover multiple more nights. Peter took half of his cash, which pained him, and covered the rest with her money. He’d pay her back when they made it home.

 

They were assigned room 6, a ground floor room with windows that faced an abandoned farm. When they entered their room, the first thing either of them did was crash onto the single bed. They were too exhausted to care about how their legs would graze or how loudly the other breathed, and Peter knew that this wouldn’t be the same when they woke up. And, despite being three p.m., and despite the fact that Peter told himself he was going to call Ned as soon as he got the WiFi password, he passed out.

 

**DAY TWO**

 

He woke up at one in the morning.

 

_ Ten hours _ after crashing into the bed, Peter sat straight up in a dazed state. Part of him hardly even knew where he was, and the other part was confused-- MJ was next to him, her long and bare legs intertwined with his on top of the covers, and his gaze followed up to see that at some point, MJ had changed into shorts and had discarded of her shirt.

 

Could you even call those shorts? They were only about five inches long and even in the dark, Peter could see the how  _ little _ they really covered. But, the moonlight was bright enough for her skin to illuminate, and wow, her skin just looked so soft and he wanted to reach out and--

 

And Peter was still in his sweaty t-shirt and basketball shorts. Suddenly, he felt disgusting.

 

He carefully slid his legs away from her’s and wondered around trying to find where he dropped his suitcase. When Peter found it, he grabbed what felt like boxers, and decided that was good enough. Quickly, he found himself in the shower. Water had never felt so  _ good _ before. He could’ve stood there for hours, not moving, just letting the hot liquid refresh his muscles and relax him from the stressful day before.

 

“Parker?” MJ knocked on the bathroom door. “Are you almost done?”

 

He croaked out, “Uh, yep. Just give me a minute.” Then, he turned the water off and tied a towel around his waist.

 

“Can I come in?” She tapped the wall lightly with her knuckles.

 

Peter opened up the door, and in the light, MJ looked-- Well, considering how upset she made him, Peter wasn’t going to finish that thought. Her hair was pushed off to one side and fell over her shoulder, and in her arms she held a fresh pair of clothes. “Uh,” MJ stammered, looking down near Peter’s core. “I can’t believe we slept for that long.”

 

He held onto the top of the towel, not trusting his knot abilities. “Yeah, I know, right? That’s what walking for a few hours in the heat will do to you.”

 

“Well… do you mind? I was hoping to shower, too.” MJ pointed to her clothes.

 

Peter felt himself starting to blush as he stuttered, “Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’ll just get out of your way.”

 

“Your boxers, Parker.”

 

“Right. I’ll grab those first.” He stretched forward and grasped onto the fabric, and got halfway through the doorway before MJ grabbed his bicep.

 

“Hey, I--” she started. They were both crammed into the doorway, MJ’s hand on his dripping wet arm and her breathing blowing air into his face. “Thanks for letting me treat you like pack mule today. I, you know, appreciate it.”

 

“Of course. No problem.” Peter stared back at her, hardly blinking.

 

MJ cleared her throat and dropped Peter’s arm. “And thanks for using all the hot water. Were you getting some frustration out?” Her jab fell flat, with a tone that was walking on ice instead of flat ground.

 

“You wish,” he hoarsely replied.

 

“Sure, Parker. Whatever you say.” She pushed him the rest of the way out of the bathroom, a small smile sprouting when he stumbled.

 

MJ closed the door, and he heard the water start again. 

 

Oh, god. He had a million dirty images going through his head.

 

He really needed to call Ned as a distraction, and to put his nerves at ease, but for a minute, Peter stood outside the bathroom door, watching it, his creative brain expecting MJ to pop her head out. And for her to say something that would knock his socks off-- if he had any on.

 

Instead, he heard her chastise him for using all the shampoo. And Peter was ready to call Ned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh guys im so sorry for A) taking so long to update and B) this chapter, it blows. thank you for reading it though <3 if you have anything you want to ask me directly you can go to my curiouscat (https://curiouscat.me/hannrlee) and as always you can leave a comment. i read them all <3 i love you guys!!


	6. Chapter 6

**DAY TWO**

 

“We left you in  _ Illinois _ ?” Ned spat. “Oh, god, Peter. I’m going to wake my parents up and tell them we have to come back and get you.”

 

It was two in the morning, and when Peter finally opened his phone, he had a million text messages from Ned. Apparently, he assumed that Peter and MJ pulled into a secluded spot, and lost track of time while making out. To say the least, Ned was saddened to figure out how wrong he was.

 

“No, dude, don’t bother. The car’s gonna get fixed the day after tomorrow and by Wednesday, hopefully, we’ll be on our way back home. Remember your dream, Ned? Stanford! C’mon, don’t give up on it just because I have a shitty car.” Peter kept checking the bathroom door. MJ had been in there for a while, and for some reason, he was in a state of self-consciousness. His shirt was still off, as the room felt like a hundred degrees, and he  _ knew _ she stared at his core. What was up with that?

 

“But, your  _ birthday _ is tomorrow. We were gonna explore the area. And-- and I got the perfect gift for you!” Ned pouted his lips.

 

“So? You have six hours left to go until you get to Stanford. And the tour is at four, today. MJ and I will be fine. I’m sure my birthday will be great,” he promised, “even if you are just here in spirit.”

 

A door opened on Ned’s side of the call. His sister’s voice rang out, “Bed time,  _ Neddie _ . Oh, Peter! Are you--”

 

“He’s fine,” he scowled to his sister. “Guess I gotta go, Pete. I love you. Tell MJ I miss her.” 

 

Peter said back, “Love you, Ned. Have fun in Stanford.” He disconnected the FaceTime first, and threw his phone to the end of his feet afterwards.

 

Of course, Peter didn’t  _ want _ to be there. He would’ve been more than happy to ask Ned to beg his parents to come get them, or even steal the car and scour the ends of the Earth for the two stranded teenagers. And Ned  _ totally _ would’ve done it, but that was the issue. He would have, and Peter would’ve ended up guilt ridden. Ned’s one aspiration was to step foot on Stanford’s campus, and his parents had never given a sign that they’d let it happen. Ned was  _ so _ close, and Peter couldn’t ask his friend to give that up.

 

So, he was in the middle of nowhere with Michelle Jones. He was fine.

 

One day, he’d look back on this and laugh.

 

MJ scurried out of the bathroom, and Peter followed her with his eyes as she moved to her suitcase. “Your hair is dry,” he pointed out.

 

“Yeah, yeah it is, Parker. I used a  _ hair dryer _ . Oh, by the way, you left your dirty clothes in the bathroom. Nice Avengers boxers.” MJ winked at him, and bent down to shove her things away.

 

“NYU, huh?” Peter read out the text that was across her tiny shorts. 

 

She froze for a second, and then with a smirk, stood up straight to slyly comment, “Stop checking out my ass, for one second.” 

 

Peter’s face reddened in embarrassment, and he started huffing out words he couldn’t even decipher. “I-- I wasn’t-- What? Huh?” She started laughing. “Oh, ha, funny, MJ. I’ve never understood text being displayed, you know, there. It just makes me want to read it.”

 

“Just say ass, Parker. Anyways--” MJ flopped on the bed, laying on her stomach and facing Peter, “--who says I didn’t put these on just so you would check me out?”

 

This time, his skin went ghostly as his mouth fell open.

 

“Oh my god, I’m  _ kidding _ . You are so easy to fool.’’

 

MJ moved to lay on her back, and stretched her arms above her head. Her tank top rose to her belly button. It was almost impossible for her to be wearing  _ less _ clothes, Peter decided. And she still had on one of those fucking lace bralettes. This one was red. And, after a while of neither of them talking, MJ sat forward and hooked her fingers under her tank to pull it over her head. “It’s like a sauna in here,” she commented.

 

Lace bralette, and literally booty shorts was all she had on. MJ closed her eyes and Peter felt his scanning her entire body.

 

What was this trip doing to him? What was  _ she _ doing to him? May raised him to respect women for their brains, not just their body, because women were not sex objects. And now, whenever Peter looked over to the practically nude MJ, sex was all he thought about. Sex with MJ, to be specific, an image that should’ve sounded to repulsive. However, it wasn’t. The image urged him to run his hands across her curves, and to feel how soft her skin was, and to fantasize about what it’d be like if MJ’s hands went up and down his body.

 

Peter was incredibly restraint, so his urges went to the back of his mind. But, the one that kept poking through was thinking about MJ touching him. Running her hand up his thing, and over his shorts, and her nails delicately tracing his neck. Peter imagined it to be exhilarating.

 

He propped his leg up to block MJ’s sight of his lower waist. God, this was bad. May would be so disappointed.

 

“Are you thinking about going to NYU?” Peter asked, clearing his throat.

 

“I’ve been thinking about it for years,” she dreamily responded.

 

“MJ, if you want to go to NYU, then why’d you ask to tour Stanford with us?”

 

She tilted her head up to look at him, albeit upside down. MJ hesitated before shrugging her shoulders and saying, “I’m keeping my options open. Now, leave me alone. I’m taking a nap.”

 

MJ turned on her side, and Peter found it crazy how she could still be tired. Even so, when he rested his head on his pillow, and his intrusive thoughts faded away, he blissfully fell back asleep.

 

**10 A.M.**

 

At seven, Peter and MJ made the long haul back to the diner to get some breakfast. He was trying his hardest to make fun and polite conversation with her, and to his surprise, she was reciprocating it all. MJ made a few cheeky jokes and asked him about his schedule for the next year, and gave him tips about the teachers he was getting.

 

Peter hated how hot and cold she was with him. One hour, she’d be nice, and friendly, and funny. The next, just her stare would send Peter to the town over. He just wished that MJ would pick how she thought about him, and they would be over with it.

 

However, they weren’t going to get anywhere with subjects that had zero meaning. And MJ, apparently, sensed that.

 

They were sitting in the motel room, bored out of their minds with nothing to do, when she asked, “What do you usually do on your birthday?”

 

“May gets Thai, and then Ned comes over and we all watch a movie together. This year would’ve been the third time we’ve done it.” Peter flipped through another channel, and hissed, “Half of these don’t even fucking work. What’s the point?”

 

MJ stole the remote and powered the TV off. “The noise was annoying. What did you usually do? Before you started doing this.”

 

“Well,” he started, shifting uncomfortably. “You know, my uncle Ben always used to make me pancakes to start off the day. Did your parents ever do different shapes with them? Because Ben always tried to shape them and make me guess which ones were which.”

 

“That’s cute.” MJ smiled. And, she was being sincere, with no hint of rage in her tone. She wanted to know this.

 

“I mean, besides that we didn’t really do anything that special. We would all spend the whole day together, and they’d let me pick whatever I’d want to do, and usually it was something stupid like go to the  _ zoo _ . Ben made it feel so important, though.” The last birthday he had with Ben, Peter asked if he could go to Ned’s house instead of doing their routine. He hated himself for it for months.

 

MJ saw the distant look on his face and nudged him with her foot. “No presents, or anything?”

 

“A few. But that was never the most important part to me.” He craned his neck to gaze into her eyes, and she stared back.

 

She slowly licked her lips, and cleared her throat. “Well, good. Looks like this year you’ll be presentless.”

 

“I’m not expecting anything less, MJ.” 

 

**11 P.M.**

 

Throughout dinner, Peter’s phone hadn’t stopped buzzing. Ned’s tour of Stanford was the highlight of his life, and he even said it was worth leaving Peter and MJ behind. “He’s very loyal,” MJ had choked.

 

The whole day was spent in limbo. They’d watch TV for hours at a time, and then MJ would read her book while Peter drained his phone battery while watching more, entertaining TV. But, at least when they were watching together, he and MJ would bicker back and forth about how stupid the characters were.

 

That, Peter thought, was the most fun he would have in that town.

 

MJ had given him a miraculous idea to stay up until the clock read midnight. “That’s my tradition,” she told him. “Usually we have party whistles, too, but I’ll try to whistle myself.”

 

However, he knew he wasn’t going to make it that long. It was still an hour away, and his eyes felt increasingly more heavy. He laid his head down on his pillow and expected a fight out of MJ.

 

She didn’t say anything, though. MJ followed in laying down, and poked his hand. “Parker,” she softly said, “before you turn eighteen, or any age, it’s important to start fresh.”

 

“That’s New Years,” Peter whispered.

 

“It’s  _ both _ . What I’m trying to say is, yesterday was just really stressful. And we both said things we didn’t mean, right?” MJ asked. Her feet brushed against his, and then again, and he knew it was intentional.

 

“Right, of course. I-- Of course I wanted you to tag along.”

 

MJ scoffed, “No you didn’t. Don’t bullshit on your last hour of being seventeen.”

 

“Fine. Okay, at first, maybe I didn’t want to be around you,” Peter admitted. He finally opened his eyes to look at her. “But it’s different now, MJ. I swear.”

 

And he really did mean it.

 

“Thanks, Parker. And to clarify-- I don’t think you’re selfish. I think that was clear, but I just--” She cut herself off, taking a deep breath.

 

“It was clear,” he nodded.

 

The room grew silent as the both of them gave up on their midnight goal. Peter hoped unconsciousness would grace him soon as he glued his eyes shut. Then, on the other side of the bed, he could feel MJ shifting around. The covers moved beneath her, the noise ringing in his ears, and she huffed out in frustration. 

 

To his shock, Peter felt her warmth radiating against his. She didn’t say a word as she draped her arm across his torso, and rested her head on his shoulder. And like the night before, their legs intertwined, with a comfortable sigh from MJ.

 

“M--” he said, startled.

 

“Go to bed, Parker,” she whispered back.

 

**DAY THREE - 9 A.M.**

 

Peter woke up once during the night.

 

It was still dark outside, so it couldn’t have been any later than four a.m., and as he was asleep he had put his arms around MJ’s waist and held her stable. They hadn’t moved a bit, otherwise.

 

For his first morning as an eighteen year old, he couldn’t think of any better way to wake up with a girl in his arms. Any girl, really. 

 

But, he was glad it was MJ. No matter how stupid that sounded, of all the girls that Peter knew well enough to be in a bed with (and it was very limited,) MJ was the only one that made sense.

 

The second time he woke up, it was because sunlight was disturbing him. She had woken up first and opened up the blinds with a cheery, “Happy birthday, Parker.”

 

When Peter flinched and pulled the covers over his eyes, MJ crashed back onto the bed and pulled them away. “We are going to go get pancakes at the diner,” she taunted, since he was resisting.

 

“Pancakes?” Peter blurted. He softened his tone, “Really?”

 

“I mean, yeah. What else would we do?” MJ slid back off the bed and onto her feet. She was already dressed, in jean shorts and a crop top, and had a backpack on. Peter stared at it, wondering what was inside, and she ignored his gaze. “Get  _ dressed _ , Parker. I’m starving.”

 

Less than half an hour later, they were sitting in their booth--the same one they sat in every time the day before for all their meals. MJ slid the backpack off her shoulders, and with a loud thud, placed it on the table.

 

“What’s in there?” Peter inquired.

 

“You know what, Parker?” MJ changed the subject. “I always thought I was older than you. Like, I knew you had a summer birthday, but I thought you were one of those kids that were going to graduate at eighteen.”

 

He furrowed his eyebrows, not forgetting about the backpack, but dropped it anyways. “I’m definitely eighteen. Why’d you think that?”

 

“You just look like one of those kids. Y’know, smaller, more fragile.”

 

“What? Like you?” Peter laughed.

 

“Exactly like me. My seventeenth birthday was in June.” 

 

The waitress came over and placed their pancakes down on the table. “Enjoy, kids,” she hoped, and patted Peter on the back before walking away.

 

MJ started tearing into her pancakes, but Peter sat there, disappointed in himself. In June, they had an end-of-the-year Decathlon party. He was there all of five minutes before having to leave, but Ned later mentioned something about a  _ birthday _ cake. Peter thought it was a funny mistake on the baker’s part. 

 

He was so stupid. All the time.

 

“I never wished you a happy birthday,” Peter croaked.

 

MJ dragged the backpack off of the booth, and started zipping it open. “I never expected you to. Anyways, last night when I said you would be giftless? I was kidding.” She pulled out a rectangle shaped gift, in pink wrapping paper. 

 

He took it from her hands. “I can’t take this.”

 

“Take it, Parker. I’m not going to like it.”

 

Peter safely unwrapped the gift, not tearing any paper away. It was a  _ Star Wars _ book-- but one of those Barnes & Noble exclusive ones, with gold edges and a Princess Leia cover. In his eyes, this was the coolest damn thing he had ever held.

 

“I bou-- well, Ned and I bought it. We went halfsies. I found it a few weeks ago and I knew you would like it, and Ned confirmed it.” MJ exhaled after finishing her stuttering, scratching just above her eyebrow. “Yeah. Happy birthday, Parker.”

 

“Wow. I love it, MJ. Thank you.” Peter opened up the first few pages to skim through, but his guilt distracted him. “MJ, I’m so sorry for not knowing much about you. It feels like you know, well,  _ everything _ , and I don’t even know when your birthday is.”

 

“It’s fine.” MJ took another bite of pancakes. “We weren’t friends when my birthday passed.”

 

“We weren’t friends when you bought me this. And-- we’re friends, now?”

 

She dropped her utensils and crashed her back against the booth. “Will you just eat your damn birthday pancakes already?”

 

Peter complied, taking a hold of his pancakes with his fist and taking a huge, ugly bite. And MJ… MJ  _ giggled _ .

 

They were so friends. He was sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like im writing such boring chapters im sorry guys :( comment here or if u want a question answered talk to me on my cc (https://curiouscat.me/hannrlee) both options are very much appreciated <3


	7. Chapter 7

**DAY THREE-- 10 P.M.**

 

Peter was telling Michelle about his favorite birthday ever.

 

She hadn’t asked, but she didn’t seem to mind. They were laying on the floor, for a reason Peter couldn’t remember, and he was talking about the day he turned eight years old. Ben and May had taken him to get a hamster, since that was what he begged for. “We never made it to the pet shop, though,” he commented.

 

“Why not?” MJ asked. She using Peter’s outstretched arm as a pillow, and he was starting to lose feeling in his fingertips.

 

“There was this  _ huge _ rainstorm. Like, seriously, one minute the sky was blue and the next, rain was almost shattering the glass. Then, when the power went out, they decided it was a bad idea to leave the house. And I threw a fit.” Peter stared up at the ceiling, but felt her eyes scouring his face.

 

MJ laughed, “That’s pretty a reasonable fit.”

 

“I know! Well, Ben was over it after an hour, so he sat me down on the couch, and just made me sit there. But, then he and May started lighting candles, and she started singing this  _ beautiful _ song that calmed me down. We painted each other’s nails, since there wasn’t anything else to do. And then Ben made up a story that I wished he would’ve written down. He was an amazing story teller. Obviously, I’m not,” he chuckled lightly. 

 

“That sounds sweet.” MJ paused, and took a sharp inhale. “D-do you miss him?”

 

Peter nodded. “Every day. I think you would’ve liked him, MJ. He read the same books you do and, apparently, had the same attitude before May whipped him into shape.”

 

MJ kicked him in the shins and pushed his shoulder, her mouth gaping. “ _ I _ do not have an attitude problem.”

 

“Tell that to my new bruise!” Peter yelped. She stuck her tongue out at him.

 

Her face fell, and she sat up, supporting her own weight on her elbow. She hovered over him. “Peter?” she quietly asked.

 

“Michelle,” he deadpanned.

 

“Where would you rank this on your best birthdays list?”

 

“That’s eighteen birthdays, MJ. I’d need a pen, and paper, and accurate infor--” She covered his mouth with her free hand.

 

Upon releasing it, she said, “Answer me seriously, please.”

 

“Fine,” he sarcastically groaned. “It was great, but not better than my eighth. For sure better than my fourteenth, and fifteenth. So… let’s say second best.”

 

Her face lit up, for a fraction of a second, before she forced her emotions down.

 

“Why?” Peter continued.

 

“I’m glad I got stuck here with you,” she told him. “And I mean it. This has been the best few days of my life.”

 

“ _ Why _ ?” he shockingly repeated. Peter had never heard anything more audacious in his life.

 

“It’s not like I have much to compare it to. Don’t flatter yourself. But… I don’t know. I feel free here. People don’t know me, I don’t have to always be on defense, and… And you’re here.” MJ lazily rested her chin on his chest.

 

He squinted. “You need to meet--”  _ more people _ , he would’ve finished.

 

But, she lurched forwards, holding Peter’s head between her hands, her fingers resting on his jawline. For three seconds, exactly, MJ pressed her lips against his. It wasn’t soft, but it wasn’t rough, it was that sweet middle ground that made him melt into it. He jerked forward in surprise,  _ not _ in disgust, but it made her back off.

 

“That was your second, and last, gift,” she said as she pulled back. Her confidence had returned. “I mean, I’m assuming you haven’t had your first kiss yet.”

 

“I-- I--  _ No _ , I hadn’t but-- MJ--” He couldn’t form a word, his tongue feeling like a sponge.

 

She smirked, her eyes looking all over his face. “Well… you’re welcome. Eighteen year old Peter is already more advanced than seventeen year old Peter.” MJ used his chest to push herself up, saying, “So, I’m beat. I’m going to get ready for bed.”

 

All of Peter’s objections clouded in the back of his throat as he watched MJ scurry into the bathroom, and closing the door behind her. He was so, so utterly confused. She was a puzzle, but one with a missing piece that you’d never be able to figure out.

 

MJ had kissed him. And it shouldn’t have surprised him that he liked it, considering how much he thought about kissing  _ her _ in particular, but-- it did. No, Peter was surprised by how  _ much _ he liked it. How, when MJ walked away from him, he wanted to sit up and pull her back, so they could explore each other’s bodies with more than just their eyes.

 

She was in there for a solid twenty minutes. Doing what? Peter wasn’t sure, as the shower hadn’t turned on and there was no loud thud that might’ve indicated that she hit her head. He took those twenty minutes to stew in question, never moving from the floor. 

 

MJ had kissed him. 

 

_ Why _ ?

 

When she walked out of the bathroom, he was fully prepared to get an answer. She could’ve  _ asked _ him if he had never been kissed, and wasn’t it rude that she just assumed it? And what would she have said if Peter had been kissed before? MJ probably didn’t think that far. Why just tackle him like that? That’s not to say he didn’t like being tackled-- because, if Peter was being honest, he wanted MJ to tackle him again… But  _ still _ . It was the principal of it.

 

Then, MJ gave him one look, and his nerves built up inside him. She gave him a toothy smile and rolled her eyes, and with her hair up, and in the clothes that basically counted as underwear, she just seemed so  _ soft _ . Peter wasn’t even sure if that was the right word. “Get off the floor, Parker,” she laughed, “unless you wanna sleep there tonight.”

 

“No! No, I-- I’m good.” Peter shot up, and swiftly took his shirt off over his head. He was already in his boxers.

 

He jumped into the bed beside her. “What are you doing? You didn’t brush your teeth. P-Peter!” she screeched as he pulled her in to his side.

 

“My teeth can rot.”

 

MJ, resistant at first, relaxed into Peter’s side. “Don’t breathe on me, then. You’re disgusting.”

 

That night, he dreamed about getting the car fixed, driving it out into the middle of nowhere, and having MJ straddle him. Then, a giant turtle nudged the car, and it woke him up.

 

Peter was about ready to burst.

 

**DAY FOUR**

 

They called for the tow truck to get them the minute the repair shop opened, and MJ was happy to hear that they wouldn’t have to make the hike back to the car themselves.

 

The bad part was, when the three of them--MJ, Peter, and the driver, Eugene--went to retrieve the car, they got a little lost. 

 

Peter was adamant that they turned down  _ this _ street, not the next one, and MJ was screaming over the radio, “Why the fuck would we have turned down any street, Parker? Why would we do that?” And since Eugene was scared, he went straight. 

 

They circled back twenty minutes later because they never found the car. When they went down the path Peter suggested, though, they saw his yellow Buggie, untouched and intact.

 

He stuck his tongue out at MJ. She had her arms crossed and was looking out the window, but stepped on his toes. “Screw off,” she muttered.

 

When Eugene came back into the car, Peter apologized for this taking so long, and for the yelling. “Not a big deal,” he promised. “On my first road trip with my girl, we got so lost we ended up in Canada. She didn’t speak to me for the rest of the way home.”

 

“She’s--” MJ cut Peter off.

 

“Well, I can assure that we won’t be _ talking _ tonight.” Her grin was mischievous as MJ placed her hand high on Peter’s thigh. “Right, honey?” She winked.

 

He cleared his throat, then threw his arm around MJ, nervously placing his hand on her hip. He knew what game she was playing. “Right,” Peter nodded. “Sex.”

 

“Yeah, I got it,” Eugene chuckled. 

 

Peter’s face was so hot he felt like it was going to melt right off. He was the most embarrassing person  _ alive _ . And, it really wasn’t helping that MJ was now stroking his thigh. Back and forth. Sweetly. Like they really were dating.

 

**AN HOUR LATER**

 

His car needed a whole a new battery, which would only take forty five minutes to replace. However, Ned promised that they would meet them in Decatur the day after, so Peter and MJ got yet another hotel room.

 

And, he was seriously running low on money. The whole towing fiasco cost a $250.25, and the battery was another $125, and the room was $40. He just knew that his debit card was a burger away from being zero.

 

Peter would deal with it later. He was, now, unlocking their new hotel room. It was much nicer than the motel, with floors that didn’t look like it had been chewed away by termites. And when MJ flopped down on the bed, there was actually a slight bounce to it. It wasn’t a stiff rock.

 

He tried to hold his tongue for as long as possible. Peter relaxed on the bed next to her, but it was all so stressful. The touching, and the smiles, and the kiss. He needed answers.

 

“What was with that? The thigh thing. In the car,” Peter stuttered.

 

“What? Did it turn you on?” MJ sat on her knees facing him, and laughed at him when his face turned red. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did, Parker. And, it wasn’t anything. It’s just funny when people assume we’re dating. Strangers can think what they want, their opinion doesn’t matter to me. And wasn’t it fun to  _ not _ be you?”

 

“Well--”

 

“Exactly! And your hand was  _ so _ close to my ass, don’t pretend like you didn’t get something out of it, too.” MJ took out her ponytail holder, nonchalantly saying, “I’m so glad  _ this _ hotel has air conidtioning.”

 

Peter sat on his knees as well. “I’m sorry if my hand was close to your ass, but--”

 

“No, you should’ve went all the way. Then he really would’ve believed it.” 

 

“Okay, MJ,  _ stop _ ,” he snapped. “Stop toying with me. You’re so  _ confusing _ . Obviously, you don’t want me anywhere near you most days, so what’s with the sexual touching and-- and the  _ kiss _ ? That didn’t have to happen!”

 

MJ’s face contorted. “The kiss was purely platonic! I was giving you experience. And sexual touching? A thing touch is hardly sexual.”

 

“Oh, yeah?” Peter challenged. He grabbed a hold of her wrist and placed it where she had it before. “You’re telling me here isn’t sexual?”

 

“No, Parker. It’s not. Now give me my hand back.”

 

“Or what about here?” He took her hand, directing it to his abs. “When I woke up the other night, you were practically  _ petting _ right here.”

 

She gulped, and tugged harder. “ _ Platonic _ ,” MJ insisted.

 

“Or--”

 

MJ smashed her lips against his, knocking him backwards so his head was no longer on the bed. Her legs were on either side of his body, and her tongue slipped into his mouth, and she strongly gripped onto his sides. MJ then pulled her head back. 

 

“ _ There _ ,” she stressed. “ _ That _ wasn’t platonic. That was pure sexual desire. Are you happy?”

 

MJ swung her leg over so she was no longer over Peter, but he pulled her back to his lap. Rashly, and passionately, Peter kissed MJ again, and this time, she was surprised. Soon, though, he could feel her smirk against his skin.

 

She pushed him to he was on his back again. MJ peppered kisses up his stomach, pulling his shirt up as she got closer to his mouth. She eventually got it over his head, and muttered, “Thank god.”

 

Peter pressed his lips against her neck, roughly, and held the other side to keep her head from moving. MJ caught her breath when he got to a certain spot, and that was where he spent the most time.

 

She flipped them over so she was underneath. MJ wrapped her legs around his body and directed Peter’s hand under her shirt, moaning against his lips, “Touch me, Peter.” 

 

And he did. He touched her, over the bra, the  _ fucking _ bra that made these thoughts enter his head in the first place, and it was everything he dreamed of. MJ wrapped her fingers around Peter’s hair, and pulled him in tighter with her legs. Peter took a chance. He shyly slipped a finger under the edge of her bralette, and continued when MJ nodded her head. His hand disappeared under the lace fabric.

 

Really, Peter meant it. It was everything he thought it would be. He probably left a hickey, and MJ  _ let _ him. MJ  _ welcomed _ it. And she was moaning underneath him, and letting him do all the things he was fantasizing about, and he’d never been so elated in his whole life. 

 

When he went back to kiss her neck, MJ whispered in his ear, “You won’t believe how long I’ve wanted this.”

 

She unbuckled Peter’s belt. With that and what she had said, Peter froze. “What do you mean?”

 

MJ moved his head back to her mouth, kissing him again. “I have wanted this to happen for months, Parker.” Another kiss. The belt was now on the floor. “And it’s happening.”

  
He moved away. “Y-you’ve  _ what _ ?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that end is such a peytonxlucas tease :* hope yall enjoyed! yell at me on my curiouscat (https://curiouscat.me/hannrlee) or on my twitter @chaoshoIland <3


	8. Chapter 8

MJ propped herself up onto her elbows, overtly saddened by Peter’s distance. “What’s wrong? Was the belt thing too fast? I’ve never been with a guy who complained about  _ too _ fast--”

 

_ She’s done this before? _ Peter thought. No-- he could tell that just by the way she rolled her hips into him and sensually dug her nails into his back, and how quickly MJ had made his shorts tighten. But to hear her  _ say _ it, that was different. (Not that Peter had a problem with that; MJ was allowed to do whatever she wanted with her body. But-- he didn’t have any experience. At all. She would’ve been so disappointed.)

 

“No, the, the belt was f-fine,” Peter huffed. He was having trouble breathing. “W-what did you mean by that? ‘For months.’  _ Months _ ?”

 

“Oh.” MJ bit her lip, and then placed her hands on Peter’s knees, starting to etch her fingers under his shorts. “You know what I mean, Parker. When Flash and his dickhead friends poured ice water on you during gym--” she leaned forward and kissed Peter’s jaw. He instinctively leaned into it, pleasure erupting through him. “--and you took your shirt off and hit Flash on the ass with it. All I’m trying to say is, your body is hot.”

 

And, Peter wanted to be convinced by that. MJ pulled her shirt off and placed Peter’s hands back over her bra, and they crashed backwards onto the bed as their lips collided. His thoughts intruded his mind, however, when MJ started taking her bra off.

 

Peter had wanted to take that stupid thing off for this whole trip. He had trouble sleeping because of it, and to see MJ’s fingers hook underneath it and start pulling up made his heart stop.

 

But-- Peter placed his hands on top of her’s. MJ wasn’t the type of person to overly sexualize people.  _ That _ he knew, since they had argued over it in Decathlon hundreds of times. He and Ned would call a model pretty, and would share a comments of how excellently she wore the lingerie, and MJ would come over and hit them in the head with a soft cover book. “Women aren’t objects,” she’d tell them. “Even if they are modeling sexy underwear!  _ I _ don’t sexualize male underwear models, do I?”

 

Peter knew she was lying.

 

He just needed her to admit it.

 

“So you only want me for my body?” he sneered. “If we were to do-- you know, it wouldn’t have meant nothing?”

 

MJ scoffed. “I didn’t say  _ that _ . And, Parker, you’re the type of person who is saving themselves for the  _ one _ , aren’t you?”

 

“No. Don’t flip this around on me, MJ. So, this is only happening because you saw my abs and wanted to get an up close look?” Peter was being a total hypocrite. It’s not like MJ knew that, though.

 

“Would you even care if I said yes?” she tempted, judgingly raising her eyebrows.

 

He crawled away from MJ, testing her bluff. “Fine,” Peter said, and grabbed his shirt, “MJ, this was fun, but if this is just sex for you...”

 

“How much does this mean to you?  _ You _ aren’t just using me? You could hardly stand me before, and now you want your tongue down my throat!”

 

“ _ I _ couldn’t stand  _ you _ ? Every time I said something, you’d pour fucking soda in my lap!” he argued. “No, MJ, you know what? You’re right. I couldn’t stand you. But, things are different now. You’re so caring, and thoughtful, and-- am I sexually attracted to you? Yeah, of course. But… but I think--”

 

MJ started shaking her head with widened eyes. “Stop talking, Peter,” she whispered. “Don’t say anything you don’t mean to get your rocks off.”

 

“ _ Rocks off _ ?”

 

“To get your dick wet, Parker,” she blurted. She cleared her throat and took Peter’s hand. “Let’s just say that we did this, right? If you... if  _ you _ told me you liked me, and not just for my body, and then tomorrow morning you went and told Ned you  _ banged _ me-- There’s a lot of things I can handle, Peter, but if to go through that again, and with  _ you _ in particular-- It’s just easier if you keep your mouth shut.”

 

“I’d never do that, MJ,” he promised. “Why with me, in particular?”

 

She stared down at their hands, where she was rubbing circles into Peter’s palm, and her hair covered her face. “There’s been guys that I thought I liked, and thought I trusted, but with you…”

 

Oh.

 

_ Oh _ .

 

“And I’ve known how much of a bitch I’ve been to you,” MJ croaked. “I know I’ve made it hard for you to be nice to me, and it’s a miracle you even let me tag along at all. You shouldn’t like me, Peter. You just shouldn’t.”

 

He wanted to hit those guys in the face. The guys who lied to her to get her into bed with them, the ones who bragged about her, the ones who didn’t give a shit about her at all. Because MJ wasn’t a prize, and she didn’t deserve to used.

 

Peter knew that. And he wanted to be the one to show her that.

 

And in that moment where raged filled his body, Peter knew he liked her, in a way that wasn’t just sexually charged.

 

“Well, tough shit, MJ,” he blurted. Her head whipped up in shock. “I’d never treat you the way those guys treated you, and I’m not just saying this to have sex with you, because honestly I think that ship has sailed for today, but--”

 

MJ kissed him, tenderly. It wasn’t her trying to get a point across or him trying to hear her satisfying moans, but it was full of months of built up confessions that all communicated how much she cared for him.

 

They fell backwards, and she pulled her head away from his. MJ wrapped Peter’s arm around her and held it close to her chest. “Let’s stop talking, okay?” she asked.

 

“Okay,” he agreed. “Hey, do you want me to beat those guys up? I’d be glad to.”

 

Against him, MJ chuckled. “I’m sure you could, but I think I’m okay. Thanks, though.”

 

He kissed the back of her neck, smiling contently to himself.

 

**THE NEXT DAY**

 

They hardly left the hotel room that day, not even venturing out for dinner, as they had ordered pizza.

 

It was nice, actually. For the rest of that afternoon, Peter and MJ cuddled and napped, cuddled and watched TV-- basically, MJ was in his arms the whole time, and he was perfectly happy with that. And she talked to him, only slightly, about her past relationships. She caressed his face and had mumbled, “I wish I had waited for someone special.”

 

“Was your first time bad?” Peter asked. 

 

“So, so bad. And then he told all of his friends the next day, and-- And you know what? It doesn’t matter. What matters is that  _ you _ are waiting for that someone, aren’t you?” And when he answered yes, she gave him a peck on the lips and said, “Don’t waste it, Parker.”

 

Peter had a hard time that day, trying his hardest not to overthink what they were doing. They were kissing, they were holding each other, and those were couple things, right? But-- MJ would’ve mentioned it, if she wanted to be his girlfriend. She would have. And maybe that would’ve made her feel trapped and confined, so Peter didn’t want to bring it up. He just had a really difficult few hours learning to be comfortable with a labeless  _ thing _ .

 

Still, even into the deep hours of the night when MJ decided she wanted to make out with him again, in the back of Peter’s mind there was that nagging question.  _ What are we doing? _

 

Apparently, Peter Parker didn’t do ‘no strings attached.’

 

When he was in the reigns, it just never left his head. When he was kissing down her neck, and handling her breasts, he wanted to stop everything and ask. However, the trick was for MJ to be on top. MJ could make him forget about all his worries just by straddling his lap.

 

And honestly, when he wasn’t stressing out about what would happen the next day, he had to admit-- they were really good at this.

 

He had enough control not to push her, so overall, things were more than okay with him.

 

The trouble came when the Leeds knocked on their hotel room.

 

It the afternoon after they arrived in that town, and since MJ was bored, she had whipped her shirt across the room and threw herself into Peter’s lap. He had heard their loud footsteps from down the hall, and tried warning her. “MJ--” he gasped.

 

MJ smirked and ran her hands through Peter’s hair. “Shh,” she replied.

 

When Ned’s voice screamed, “Peter! Guess who,” she froze.

 

“Shit.” She scrambled away from Peter, trying to look for her shirt. MJ took a second to look at herself in the mirror. “Oh, great, nice hickey placement,” she hissed.

 

Peter was stunned until the second round of knocking. Rapidly as he stood up, he thought,  _ hairless cats, cold showers, tarantulas _ , over and over again in his mind, faster and faster as he got closer to the door. He needed to… calm down.

 

Ned engulfed him in a huge hug when Peter opened the door. “You’re alive!” he shouted. “I thought you were going to be eaten by bears! Wait, has MJ been eaten by bears? Where is she?” He looked past Peter’s shoulder, and when Peter followed his gaze, she wasn’t there.

 

“Oh. She must be in the bathroom, I guess.”

 

“Hey, Peter,” Eleanor said from behind her brother. “You look tan.”

 

“We were trapped in the sun for a few hours,” he laughed. “Are your parents--”

 

“Getting a room for tonight,” she answered. “They said to say they’re sorry, and happy late birthday. I, also, say happy late birthday.”

 

Ned grimaced, and shoved his sister backwards, deeper into the hallway. “That’s nice, El. Go find them, yeah?” He took a few steps into Peter’s room and slammed the door on his sister’s face. “The witch is gone!” he shouted in success. “You won’t  _ believe _ the shit I had to deal with with her. She was more upset about leaving you behind than I was.”

 

“Thanks, Ned,” Peter deadpanned.

 

“You know I was worried,” he assured, clapping his hand onto Peter’s shoulder. “But…  _ Stanford _ ! God, it was so great. I literally could see my entire life like a damn movie. And my parents are actually coming around to the idea! Peter, I’m so glad we left you here.”

 

“You dick.” He shoved Ned in the shoulder. Then, glancing towards the closed bedroom door, he added, “I’m, uh, kind of glad you left us, too.”

 

MJ walked out of the bathroom at that moment. Her hair was pushed to the side and tied together, covering the hickey she was so worried about. “What’s up, Ned?” she smiled.

 

Ned sweeped her into a hug, as well. “MJ, I’m so glad the bears didn’t get to you.”

 

Peter, Ned, and MJ then all settled on the floor, and Ned noticed something odd almost instantly. “There’s only one bed,” he pointed out.

 

And MJ, who was so worried about the placement on her hair, moved her head rapidly to look at the disorderly bed. “Yeah. Peter sleeps on the floor.”

 

“I do not,” he intervened. “MJ cuddles up to my side like a puppy, actually.” 

 

Without looking, she raised the middle finger to him.

 

Okay…  _ weird _ , he thought. They were over the aggressive phase where they always tried to antagonize each other.

 

“MJ,” Ned’s voice sounded inquisitive, “What’s that on your neck?” He leaned forward to move her hair out of the way.

 

“Nothing!” she shouted. “It’s-- it’s nothing. Just a bruise I got when Peter threw his book at me. Oh, he loved the gift, by the way.”

 

“That looks like--”

 

“It’s a bruise, Ned.”

 

Peter spectated. She was just lying to him. He  _ hated _ lying to Ned; it felt almost criminal.

 

“One bed and a… bruise, and four whole days of isolation,” Ned chuckled to himself. “If I didn’t know any better… I would say that MJ deflowered you, Peter.”

 

“Don’t say  _ deflowered _ ,” MJ demanded.

 

“Was that a yes? Did you deflower him?” he eagerly shouted. “My two best friends--”

 

MJ cut him off. “No! No, I did  _ not _ take Parker’s virginity.” That was true, at least, and then she guiltily glanced at Peter. “And… Ned, I’d rather be eaten by bears than be touched by Parker.”

 

_ That _ wasn’t true. Peter could still feel the divots in his back from her nails.

 

He partially understood-- why tell Ned when they weren’t even really  _ anything _ . Getting Ned involved would’ve just complicated things and put pressure over them that they didn’t need, but still nevertheless, it stung.

 

It probably stung more than it should’ve.

 

Peter really wasn’t good at a no strings attached thing. He took every word to heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these chapters are shorties! hope you guys enjoyed this <3 i love reading what yall think!


	9. Chapter 9

Peter held his tongue until the next morning. He wasn’t sure how to phrase, ‘ _ I like making out with you, but I don’t want to  _ just _ make out with you, _ ’ without sounding like a needy imbecile. 

 

When Ned had left, making a comment about Peter’s weird vibe, he had dodged MJ’s attempts at a sexual interaction. She had pouted, for a while, but then slumped her shoulders and hissed, “ _ Fine _ . Goodnight, Parker.”

 

And she seemed upset at him. MJ hadn’t even asked him to hold her, and had rolled his hand off of her when he tried. What did she have to be mad at? Peter was the one who was being forced into this weird, intimate, unclear relationship. All MJ wanted him to do, it seemed, was to make her moan.

 

And Peter wanted that. He usually hated how his senses were always amplified, due to the spider bite, but hearing her in his ear was so worth it. However, Peter craved more. He wanted to hold her hand. He wanted her to meet May. He wanted to be able to tell Ned everything.

 

Maybe not everything, and maybe meeting May was too fast, but for Peter it felt right. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he had fallen head first for MJ-- because he had. Peter fell fast and hard and was instantly ready to be with her.

 

He had heard what MJ said, about liking him for  _ months _ , but she was acting differently. And when he woke up, he tried talking to her about it. 

 

“So, MJ, when we get back home, would you like to get dinner with me?” Okay, he wasn’t  _ directly _ talking about it, but her reaction would really help.

 

“Why?” MJ hissed back. She shoved her clothes into her suitcase, not at all folded. “When you didn’t even want to do anything last night?”

 

“That doesn’t mean I don’t want to go out with you. I just wasn’t feeling it when you lied to Ned like that.” Peter watched as she struggled to zip up her suitcase, and when the constant sound got annoying, he walked over to help.

 

She batted his hand away. “I’ve got it. Was I just supposed to tell Ned all the things we’ve done to each other?  _ Oh, Ned _ ,” she imitated, “ _ I felt Peter’s hard dick against me, and let me tell you, it’s large _ . Is that what you want?”

 

“Not to that extent! And--  _ large _ ?” His face flushed. “Uh, I just meant that I’m not comfortable lying to Ned.”

 

“You didn’t lie to him, did you? I did. And, I’m not really comfortable with Ned knowing all those things.” Finally, MJ got the zipper to cooperate with her.

 

“I’m not asking to tell him all the dirty details, but I can’t just hide this from him. Whatever this is. I mean, we’re a  _ this _ , right? We’re something?” he asked, internally begging for her answer to be yes.

 

MJ pulled the suitcase off of the bed and held it against her side. “How about, we aren’t an anything, so there’s nothing for Ned to know? That works, I think.”

 

She turned away from him and briskly walked out of their hotel room, going to meet the Leeds in the lobby, and leaving Peter to brew in what she had just said. What the hell was wrong with her?

 

Peter was steaming as he walked to the lobby. MJ was overreacting. And the last thing he wanted, now, was to be stuck alone with her in a car again.

 

Then, he found out Ned was going to be joining them for a few hours. Peter changed his mind-- he really wished he could be stuck alone with her again. At least he would’ve been able to talk to her about it, and maybe force an answer out of her, but with Ned there, MJ would avoid all questions.

 

They all crammed into Peter’s car. The backseat was small and cramped, and they made MJ sit in the back. She dug her knees into Peter’s seat for a straight  _ hour _ . At least Ned was driving, so Peter didn’t have to focus on the road ahead.

 

The road ahead was incredibly distorted. It was raining bullets, and according to the weather app, the rain storm would be following them as they made their way east. “We should’ve stayed another day in that hotel,” Ned grunted.

 

“No, we shouldn’t have,” both Peter and MJ shouted at the same time. He glanced over his shoulder to see her stick her tongue out at him aggressively.

 

“Woah. What happened to you two last night?”

 

“ _ Nothing _ ,” the two synced, again.

 

MJ kicked Peter’s seat. “Stop doing that,” she demanded.

 

“Gladly.” He slammed his back against his seat, only nudging it against MJ’s knees slightly but it still made her gasp, and reach around to hit him on the shoulder.

 

When Peter went to retaliate, Ned shouted, “Can you two stop it? I wish I was with my damn sister right now instead of you two children.”

 

Peter wished he was with Ned’s sister, too. That way, he wouldn’t have to deal with MJ.

 

God, he was mad. He still liked her, desperately so, and that made his anger much, much worse. 

 

**HOUR THREE BACK TO NYC**

 

“So, what did you guys do, exactly? I feel like I’ve been talking so much about me.” Ned cleared his throat and said, under his breath, “Because you guys  _ won’t _ talk.”

 

Ned had been talking about Stanford for the last hours. It was basically all the same things he had said the night before, with more intricate details and some things he had forgotten before.

 

“Literally nothing,” MJ said from the front. Half way through, she made them pull over so she could sit in the passenger seat, making Peter move to the back. She almost fought him for that seat.

 

“We ate at this diner, and MJ gave me the birthday present, and at night she’d--” 

 

She turned around in her seat. “At night  _ she’d _ do nothing.” She raised her eyebrows at him, expecting him to back off and tell Ned how boring it all was.

 

“And then we watched this soap opera on accident. This girl is hooking up with this guy, and is making him lie to all his friends about it. And the guy isn’t even sure how he feels about just hooking up. What do you think about that, Ned?”

 

MJ’s face scrunched in confusion. Then, her entire body contributed in rolling her eyes. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she whispered.

 

“I love love, you know, so I don’t really get the concept of hooking up. The guy sounds smart.” 

 

“Well,” MJ added, “if the guy wasn’t such a pompous  _ ass _ and talked to the girl, he’d realize her intentions.”

 

“Which are?” Peter asked. “To just get him naked and then refuse to go to dinner with him?”

 

“They never got  _ naked _ ,” she clarified, staring dead into Peter’s eyes. “The guy should realize that things aren’t all about him. And he should feel  _ lucky _ that the girl is even allowing him to touch her.”

 

He leaned forward. “Maybe he did feel lucky. And maybe he liked the girl a lot, but maybe he feels that he wants to do more than leave a hickey.”

 

“Maybe,” MJ’s lip curled, “she feels a hickey is primitive, and felt trapped. And maybe the guy should learn to shut his mouth.”

 

“Let’s listen to some music!” Ned broke the tension. He turned on a random station, and it made both of the teenagers collapse into their own backrest, far away from each other.

 

Peter was going to jump out the car door. Really. One more comment from MJ, and he was going to do it. It’s not like he’d even get hurt.

 

**TWO HOURS LATER**

 

The rain had gotten so bad you could hardly see past your own windshield.

 

Ned’s parents called and said to take the next exit, where there would be a restaurant for them to camp out in until the weather died down. The parking lot was practically empty, with four cars in the very front. Ned parked in the way back.

 

“ _ Why _ ?” MJ asked.

 

“I’m bad at parking! And you two deserve to be drenched in water with the hell I just endured.” Ned opened the glove compartment and pulled out the only umbrella that was kept in there. “Oops,” he grinned.

 

He opened the door, then the umbrella, and sprinted towards the restaurant.

 

Peter had, somewhat, calmed down. “MJ, can we talk?” 

 

“I’m hungry,” she mumbled in response. MJ followed Ned’s footsteps, leaving Peter all alone in the car, overwhelmed by the rain and its pounding noises that echoed in his car.

 

He yelled at himself, audibly letting out a quick scream, and decided he was going to starve before he got over it.

 

The only available seat left at their table, by the time he entered, was next to Eleanor and across from MJ. Peter slid into his seat, and Eleanor instantly started talking. “It really sucked what happened,” she started. “Being stranded in Illinois sounds like a shitfest.”

 

“It wasn’t that bad,” Peter said, glancing at MJ from behind his menu. She met his gaze and bit her lip.

 

“But, still. Oh! I got you a gift in California.” Eleanor dug into her backpack and pulled out a maroon colored sweatshirt. “If you’re planning on going to Stanford, you should probably own one of their merch items.”

 

MJ scoffed. “Peter isn’t going to Stanford.”

 

“Well, that’s rude.  _ I  _ think Peter could totally get into Stanford.” She placed her hand on Peter’s shoulder. “He’s super smart, MJ.”

 

“Yeah, I  _ know _ . And you don’t get to call me MJ. I--” MJ took a deep breath. “Peter isn’t planning on going to Stanford. He’s--”

 

“Can we not talk about me like I’m not here, please?” Peter interrupted. MJ glared at him, then her eyes migrated to Eleanor’s hand, which wasn’t just  _ placed _ on his shoulder, it was  _ grasping _ onto his shoulder. MJ stared at it, saddened. “Thank you for the sweatshirt, Eleanor. I-- I love sweatshirts.”

 

He rolled his arm, making her let go. “Uh, you’re welcome.”

 

The waitress came around and took their orders. Eleanor commented on Peter’s  _ excellent _ taste buds, and laughed and smiled when he said it wasn’t a big deal, and then Ned texted him saying, ‘ _ Dude. I’m so sorry that she’s like this. _ ’

 

And MJ, the whole time, looked like a ticking time bomb.

 

She was crumpling her napkin in her hand, and bouncing her leg so hard it’d shake the table. Peter tried to talk to her, but MJ would practically ignore him. Again, he was asking himself what her damn deal was.

 

“Peter, how much gel do you use in your hair?” Eleanor asked, hovering in her seat to get a good look at his head.

 

“Not that much… Why?”

 

“Because, I think it’d look so much better if you threw your gel away. And that’s not to be rude or anything, but Ned said you have naturally curly hair and--” She was cut off by MJ’s obnoxious coughing. “Are you okay?”

 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she shrugged. MJ took a long sip of her soda.

 

“Anyways, boys look really cute with curly hair. And since you’re already at cute boy, it’d be like cute squared.” Her voice was muted so her parents and Ned, who were debating the existence of aliens, wouldn’t overhear. Eleanor placed her hand on Peter’s knee.

 

It felt dirty, and wrong, for so many reasons. Most of all-- MJ’s face when she noticed what Eleanor was doing. It looked like she had been betrayed, but she shoved all those feelings away simply by turning her nose up at them. “I forgot something in the car,” she informed them as she stood up. 

 

Peter peeled Eleanor’s hand away. “I’ll come with you.”

 

So, off he and MJ went, and they leisurely walked back to the car. She slid into the front passenger seat and slammed the door, and gestured for Peter to do the same. “I didn’t forget anything,” she said.

 

“Oh.”

 

“I just-- God, she is so  _ annoying _ . I mean, you obviously don’t want to be with her! Why does she keep trying to seduce you like that? Really, it’s pathetic. I feel bad for her,” MJ sighed.

 

“You’re jealous.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“You so are.”

 

“I’m  _ so  _ not.”

 

“MJ, come on, I saw the way you were looking at her. I was about to take your butterknife away from you.” Peter nudged her, trying to get her to look at him. “ _ Jealous _ .”

 

MJ rested her head against the glovebox and groaned. “I’m not jealous, Parker, I’m just-- I’m  _ pissed _ , okay? And there’s really no fucking reason to be pissed at you, and I don’t feel like being pissed at myself, so the only person to be pissed at is Eleanor. She’s an easy target.”

 

“Why are you--” MJ didn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence.

 

She sat up and finally looked at him. There wasn’t a dry spot on her entire body, and all her clothes stuck to her skin, and her hair couldn’t be moved to her face. And if Peter didn’t know any better, he would’ve said that MJ was tearing up.

 

“I messed this up, right? You hate me again and I’m back to being a bitch.”

 

“MJ,” Peter reached out to gently clear her face of hair, “I don’t hate you. I like you.”

 

“Then why didn’t you want to make out last night?” she frowned.

 

“ _ W-what _ ? You’re mad at me because I didn’t want to kiss you?”

 

MJ nodded. “God, it sounds so stupid when you say it outloud. Peter, I-- I’ve never dated a guy before, like, ever. I’ve had  _ things _ , but they never wanted to take me out to dinner or buy me flowers. I’ve never been in a relationship that wasn’t  _ sex _ .”

 

He was now holding her chin between his fingers. “So when I didn’t want to mess around, you took that as me not being interested anymore?”

 

“That’s what happened with the rest of them.”

 

“Affection isn’t shown just in sex, MJ,” Peter explained. “And I am not  _ the rest of them _ . The reason I wasn’t ‘in the mood’ last night was because I didn’t just want sex. And I didn’t want to lie about my feelings for you.”

 

MJ had been conditioned that she was only good for one thing. He understood, now, why she’d acted so cold to him for months; if she had pushed him away  _ first _ , then she wouldn’t have to go through the pain and humiliation again. Peter hated that MJ had to think like that.

 

“Feelings?” MJ repeated, so hopeful, like it was the first time she had ever believed someone.

 

“ _ Yes _ . How many times do I have to say it? I like you, MJ. I like talking to you and I like being with you, and I would really like it if you let me take you out to dinner when we get back home. And we won’t have to split the tab,” Peter said, exasperated.

 

“No one has ever asked me out to dinner.” Her eyes were wide like saucers and never left his face.

 

“Those people are idiots, then.”

 

MJ slowly leaned over the center console of the car to kiss him. “Thank you,” she said, leaning her forehead against his, “for being so nice to me.”

 

He kissed her back. “I’m a big fan of being nice to the girl I like.”

 

Peter expected them to leave the car at that point, as they had already been in there for a few minutes, and he wouldn’t be surprised if Ned started calling him. But, MJ’s hand rested on his side, and she deepened their lip lock. She pulled herself onto Peter’s lap, careful to avoid the horn of the steering wheel.

 

“MJ, we don’t have to do this,” he told her, weary because of their conversation.

 

“I want to,” she promised, and gently confirmed with a small peck on the cheek.

 

Peter placed his hands on her hips. Everything was so  _ wet _ , and not in a cool sexual way, but in a way that made everything feel slimy. The fabric of her shirt that was vacuum sealed to her skin annoyed Peter, and so did the way her hair would sometimes get stuck in their mouths.

 

That-- that was gross. MJ had an easy fix, though; she took her shirt off and tied her hair up.

 

And, soon, Peter lost all control. The little space he had in the car was doing him no help, and when he tried kissing down her stomach, MJ leaned back to help and the car loudly blasted its tune, startling the two of them.

 

She giggled, “Let’s move to the back.”

 

They were clumsy even in the back. It took the both of them a while to even get back there without being quickly drenched in rain, and when they succeeded, they realized they didn’t have enough leg space for what they wanted. So, with MJ on his lap, Peter leaned forward and reached around for a lever. “What are you-- Shit!” MJ screamed, going down with the front passenger seat.

 

“Sorry! Are you okay?” Peter grimaced. 

 

MJ had her legs around him, her back on the inclined seat, and Peter’s hands were holding her thighs in place. “This is the perfect position, y’know,” she winked, ignoring his question. “If-- if you know--”

 

“Oh! I-- Only if you’re comfortable with it. Like, if you think I’m going to act weird tomorrow, then we shouldn’t. I want you to be comfortable.”

 

MJ pushed herself back to that she was sitting up. “ _ I’m _ comfortable. I only ask because I know you’re saving yourself for… someone special.”

 

Peter, getting lost in her eyes, smiled up at her. “You are special.”

 

He’d never seen anyone look that happy before.

 

She wrapped her hands around his neck and kissed him like they were running out of time: rough and passionately and quickly. MJ’s hands migrated to his shirt, and tore it off without hesitation. 

 

“Are you sure?” he repeated.

 

“Yes,” MJ assured. “I’m  _ sure _ .”

 

It hardly even occurred to Peter that  _ car sex _ wasn’t the safest place to be doing this. Sure, the rain and distance masked what they were doing, but if Ned came out to check on them, it would’ve been mortifying. And wasn’t public indecency against the law? 

 

Peter really should’ve known that, but as MJ raised herself so she was tall on her knees, her breasts practically in his face, all logic went out the window. She unbuttoned his pants and starting pulling at their legs. “Take it all off?” Peter asked.

 

“Unless you have some other way to do this,” she laughed, and began to pull her own shorts away. 

 

Now, after Peter decided he was sick of her bra, they were both completely naked. This was the first time he’d ever seen a naked woman before in real life, and he was so impressed. Okay, that wasn’t the right word, but it’s pretty self explanatory. Her curves drove him wild, and her skin was so gorgeous, and MJ herself was gorgeous. Peter couldn’t get enough of her as his hands explored every crevice.

 

But, he was scared. His body was disgusting from the waist down. Gross, hairy legs, and he wasn’t delusional; the male genitalia wasn’t visually desireable. MJ seemed just as pleased as he did, though.

 

“C-condom?” Peter choppily sounded out the syllables, each one getting disrupted by her lips.

 

“Birth control. And no STDs, I’ve been tested.” She hit herself in the face. “I probably shouldn’t have mentioned STDs, huh?”

 

“No. But it’s all good.” It would’ve taken a lot more to turn Peter off.

 

May always told him to use condoms. Condoms, condoms, condoms-- it was like her fucking motto. But Peter wasn’t thinking about May. He wasn’t thinking about anything except MJ, and her body, and all the things she made him feel that he couldn’t put into words.

 

It didn’t matter to him how ungraceful they were. Like, for example, how MJ had jerked her hand back when she first brushed against his length, nevertheless gingerly grabbing it to adjust it to her entrance. And, when she lowered herself down onto him, Peter let out this weird groan that sounded like he was relieving himself. Also, when things sped up, and MJ’s upwards and downwards movements got faster and faster, she hit her head against the roof of the car.

 

It didn’t matter. Peter’s whole body was on fire, and he’d never felt so right before.

 

Peter realized how lazy he was being, so he thrusted his hips forward. MJ let out a gasp, and begged, “Do that again,” against his lips.

 

So, Peter did it again, and again, and he was about to burst. He dug his fingernails into her thigh, trying to contain himself until MJ climaxed. It was all too much, though. Her hands on his abs. Her hot breath on his shoulder. Her warmth consuming him, her breasts against his chest, her  _ everything _ against his  _ everything _ .

 

Then, as his willpower depleted and he felt himself brimming over the edge, MJ threw her head back and moaned out his name. She tightened against him, her toes curling, and with another thrust, Peter was gone.

 

MJ lovingly kissed him as she relaxed. 

 

“That was good?” he worryingly huffed out.

 

“So good,” her voice was trapped in euphoria. “And trust me, I don’t fake anything.”

 

“Good.” Peter kissed her again. “I’m starving.”

 

She scoffed, hitting his chest as she moved off of him. “You’re thinking about  _ food _ right now?”

 

“I’m really, really hungry.” Their food was probably already there, and the thought of that made his stomach grumble.

 

Again, she hit her head as she put on her panties. “I’m glad your first thought after your first time was food.”

 

“Hey, that’s a good thing. Food is one of my favorite things. After you, of course.” Peter took a hold of her hand. “MJ, I really, really--”

 

“I know, Parker. You’re really hungry,” she joked. Then, MJ gripped his hand back and softened her facial expression. “I really like you, too.”

 

When they walked back to the restaurant's door, they were holding hands. And Peter was content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay. well. thanks for reading! sorry for being bad at smut im trying to get better <3


	10. Chapter 10

The hours after their car rendezvous had gone by in a blur. He was exhausted, and starving, and way too overwhelmed with emotions to keep his eyes open. The only thing Peter had enough energy to do was stuff his face with his lukewarm burger; he didn’t even bother to notice Ned and Eleanor’s inquisitive stares.

 

They were gone for a  _ while _ . Way too long to just be looking for something, and that ontop of how out of breath they were, and the bite mark on Peter’s shoulder, the two siblings must have known that something was up. Ned was definitely suspicious, as he told the two of them there was no way in hell that he was getting back in that car.

 

MJ was fine with that, it seemed. She adjusted into the driver’s seat and let Peter doze off in the passenger's. And every so often, she’d reach out with a loving smile and gently stroke Peter’s cheek with her thumb--for no reason, other than just wanting to touch him. Peter was more than just fine with that.

 

The timeline issue had only hit him when they were laying in bed that night. With his arms tightly holding her body against his, both of them scrolling through their phones like that, Peter had thought,  _ I could lay here for forever _ . 

 

That was when he started internally panicking. It was about one in the morning--and what they were doing the five hours after arrival wasn’t anyone’s business--but that meant that Peter only had six hours to hold her like that. And, when they woke up, they’d only have less than ten hours together in the car. Then, they were back in New York.

 

Peter was scared. All he knew, for sure, was that he was crazy for her; he loved holding her, and kissing her, and talking to her. They had dinner plans for sometime after their arrival home, but  _ when _ ? Was that even still on? And, what would happen after that? Would they just become one of those couples who disgustingly can’t take their hands off of each other?

 

Would they even become a couple?

 

His hands were pounding against the steering wheel anxiously. MJ was looking out the window, and soon, she started smiling out of nowhere. “What are you thinking about?” Peter asked, nudging her thigh with one hand.

 

“Nothing,” she promised. She interlaced their fingers together. “Just-- don’t worry about it.”

 

Peter should’ve asked her then.  _ Do you want to be my girlfriend?  _ he practiced, eventually mouthing it to himself. MJ just seemed so happy, though. So carefree and relaxed and comfortable, unlike he had ever seen her before. At school, she had this permanent scowl plastered on her face, and Peter didn’t want to upset her now that it was, officially, gone.

 

MJ would’ve said yes; he understood that. The small chance that she’d turn around, spit in his face, and scream, “Hell no,” hung over his head. And, as eastern Ohio shifted to western Pennsylvania, Peter decided he was ruining the last few hours of their trip for himself. He tried dropping it, instead focusing on the road.

 

A few hours outside of home, he and MJ switched seats. Before she started the ignition, she leaned over the center console and kissed him. Slowly and sweetly, until he kissed back. “What was that for?” Peter mustered, grinning.

 

“Well,” MJ jokingly scoffed, “I didn’t know I needed a reason for kissing you now. My apologies.” She started the ignition back up, and quickly pulled back onto the highway.

 

He was so embarrassing. This is why Peter had never been with a girl before this trip--he got tongue tied and said stupid things. It was a miracle MJ even  _ bothered _ with him.

 

That’s another reason why he kept his mouth shut. If he asked her, he’d probably choke on his spit, and MJ would realize how out of his league she was. Peter just wanted to enjoy these few more hours. That’s all.

 

Thankfully, he did. He took pictures and videos of MJ singing to the radio, he relished every one of her digs at him, and loved how at stop lights she would be stupid and sneak a kiss. Peter didn’t even want to tell her how dangerous that was.

 

Those last few miles, they rode in silence. It felt like the end of something significant, like their whole lives would stopped when the engine did the same outside of MJ’s apartment building. It was so overdramatic; Peter did know what was next for him after he got home. He’d put on his suit, and do some well-needed Spider-Man activities. But… but MJ wouldn’t be with him. 

 

Peter had a separation issue. Who knew that could even develop that fast?

 

Finally, MJ pulled the car over. She turned the keys slowly and grimaced when the engine died. “So…” she trailed off, unbuckling her seatbelt and turning to face Peter.

 

“So…” he whispered back.

 

Looking deeply into Peter’s eyes, she bit her lip. “Uh-- do you wanna help me unpack?”

 

Eagerly, he agreed. He jumped out of the car and grabbed MJ’s things from the back, and he followed her as they trekked the five stair walk up to her apartment.

 

MJ’s house was nothing like Peter’d imagined. It was barren and minimalistic, and so white it was burning his corneas. She grabbed his wrist, however, and lead him down the hallway into her room. 

 

It was slightly messy, a few spare clothes on the ground, and it looked actually lived in. She had drawings on her wall and photo frames scattered on her desks, with a bedspread that screamed, ‘ _ This hasn’t been changed since I was twelve _ .’ It was pink, and had obnoxious yellow stars on it. 

 

“Don’t say a word,” she told him. “Just sit there and look pretty, okay?”

 

“I thought you wanted my help.” 

 

MJ shut her bedroom door. Then, she slyly wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled. “Nope. I just wanted your face around.”

 

She stole her suitcase from his hands and threw it onto her bed. As MJ started to sort her dirty and clean clothes, Peter took a look at her desk. Her drawings varied from apples to dogs to people. A few people he recognized. He could spot Ned and his hat, and Mr. Harrington with his obnoxious dead stare, and… And Peter saw himself. A lot of drawings of him. Not enough to be creepy, but enough to make his heart soar and make him feel like he was on top of the world.

 

“Hey, MJ?” he started. “When did you do these?” He held a few in his hands.

 

MJ glanced over her shoulder and froze. “Uh… a few months ago.”

 

“So, when did you start liking me?”

 

“Didn’t I already answer this?”

 

“You said it defensively, obviously it wasn’t the real reason. So, when, MJ?” Peter was curious. He dropped the drawings back onto her desk and walked over to where she was across the room, and placed his hands on MJ’s waist. “C’mon, tell me. Please?”

 

She rolled her eyes, groaning. “I don’t know. Homecoming? No one wanted to dance with me so you offered to and-- I don’t know. It’s stupid. I bet you hardly remember it, since  _ Gwen Stacy _ was all over you.”

 

Gwen Stacy had asked Peter to their sophomore year homecoming, and was stuck in the bathroom during the one slow song they’d played. MJ had looked so lonely, and Peter didn’t let May teach him slow dancing for nothing. But, as soon as Gwen came out of the bathroom, he had switched partners.

 

He didn’t think anything of it at the time. Now, he felt like a real asshole.

 

“Really? Homecoming? That was almost a year ago.”

 

“Told you it was stupid, didn’t I? Let me unpack, please.” She tried peeling his arms off of her but Peter didn’t budge.

 

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” he asked. “You’re so… opinionated.”

 

MJ  _ tsked _ . “Thank you, Parker. Just-- wasn’t it obvious? Literally everyone in the school knew before I even accepted it myself! Ned has been chewing my ear off about this--”

 

“Wait,” he stopped her. “ _ Ned _ knows? And he never told me?” At the very first hotel they slept in, Ned was planting more ideas about MJ into Peter’s head. It made sense now.

 

“I’m surprised he’s lasted this long.” MJ placed her hands on Peter’s shoulders, finally, and leaned into his arms. “Does it matter how long? We’re here now, right?”

 

“Yes, it matters. How long have I been ignoring you while you’ve been harboring all these feelings for you? You shouldn’t have had to put up with that, MJ. And, really, I’m not that special.”

 

She gasped, and seemed actually  _ mad _ at him for saying that. “Shut up, Peter. You’re late to practice and to class and you’re so stupid sometimes, but-- You are probably the best person I’ve ever met. If anything, I’m the least special one out of the two of us.”

 

“That’s not true,” his voice was raspy, like it’d gotten stuck somewhere.

 

“Yes, yes it is,” MJ corrected. “You always try to be kind, and you always have something interesting to talk about, and hearing your voice just brightens up my day, even if I’ve never shown it. It’s just a little hard for me to deal with my feelings.”

 

“I get that,” he whispered. Peter got her hair out of her face, and his palm then held her face. She leaned into it.

 

MJ scanned his face, taking a harsh breath. “You’ll call me, right? When you get home tonight.”

 

“A hundred times,” Peter promised. “I’m planning on making us a real thing, so get used to me.”

 

“Oh, really?” She grinned and laughed. “And why is that, Parker?”

 

“Because  _ you _ are special to me. And I really want to have the most special g-girlfriend in the world.” He  _ stuttered _ . Peter fucking stuttered!

 

“Girlfriend?” MJ gasped.

 

“Girlfriend.”

 

With a kiss, she confirmed their status. Boyfriend and girlfriend. Peter Parker and Michelle Jones--  _ dating _ . The kids at school weren’t going to believe it. But, Peter didn’t care about them, or what was happening outside her bedroom, because they were in their own vacuum sealed bubble. He was so overjoyed; his kisses were short and he planted a million on her lips, just happy to be able to.

 

And even though Peter was overjoyed, their relationship was  _ hard _ . Especially the first few months. MJ was still working through her security issues, and with Peter missing dates to fight crime she didn’t know about, it amplified things. He told her he was Spider-Man kind of reluctantly-- like he didn’t want to, but Peter knew he had to.

 

That mindset fucked with him. Peter should’ve wanted to tell her everything, and when they were done having their fight about it, he apologized. He had enveloped her into a hug and told her that he wasn’t going to take her for granted. Peter promised to tell MJ every small detail of his Spider-Man business, and all the other things that happened in his day. Because he loved her.

 

MJ was happy to hear that, pulling his body closer to her’s and burying her head into his shoulder. “I love you so much,” she cried.

 

They moved fast in their relationship. From sex to becoming official to telling each other they were in love--all of that happened in two months. It felt right, though. After Peter’s confession, they didn’t have anywhere else to move up. All their dates were on his couch or at the same restaurant, he’d met her family a handful of times to lukewarm reviews, and they were both fine with that. MJ’s perfect night was being in Peter’s bed (naked or not,) with his arms around her. And that was Peter’s perfect night as well.

 

They already acted like an old married couple. 

 

But, it never got  _ boring _ . Peter could talk to her for hours and never find something to complain about. He really meant it when he told Ned one afternoon, “I think I could spend the rest of my life with her.” Ned followed that up with pretending to vomit.

 

When they graduated high school, Ned was on his way to Stanford--no surprise there--and  Peter and MJ were both heading to NYU. Instead of living at the dorms, though, May told told them to live at the apartment together. It was cheaper, and they wouldn’t be alone, but May promised to give them space.

  
So, they took her offer.

 

And upon moving MJ’s things into their now shared bedroom, Peter looked at her and blurted, “We should get married one day.” 

 

“Oh yeah?” she amused him. “And where would we go for our honeymoon? I say Hawaii.”

 

“We could drive to California.”

 

“Sure, Parker.” MJ gleefully kissed him. “And that worked so well last time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im SO BAD at final chapters im sorry <3 thank you so much to everyone who made it this far! your support means the world to me. talk to me on twitter @parkerbjones or read one of my other stories <3 its been so fun writing this i miss it already


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